


You Feel Like Home

by sainnis



Series: Sheith Medschool AU [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Body Worship, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Chatty Keith, Communication, Demisexual Keith (Voltron), Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, First Time, Frottage, Heartbeat Kink, Heartbeats, Intimacy, Kink Exploration, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Medical School, Multiple Orgasms, POV Keith (Voltron), Pet Names, Praise Kink, Relationship Discussions, Service Top Keith (Voltron), Trust, Under-negotiated Kink, inexperienced keith, they're both vers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28514943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sainnis/pseuds/sainnis
Summary: Keith’s planned everything to make his first time with Shiro perfect, but when he accidentally triggers insecurity from Shiro’s past, it’s up to both of them to get to the heart of what they want and need. The answer to both questions turns out to be the same thing—each other.Medschool!AU, sequel to You're My Medicine
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Sheith Medschool AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687237
Comments: 45
Kudos: 128





	You Feel Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the events of You're My Medicine; Keith and Shiro are roommates and medical students who recently got together, navigating their hectic academic schedules and their new relationship. 
> 
> Massive thanks to @goldentruth813 for being such a champion of this AU and for encouraging me along the way! Special thanks for writing me a brilliant summary! ❤️

Keith shifts his weight in the uncomfortable plastic chairs of the university clinic waiting room, leaning against the warmth of Shiro’s side. Next to him, Shiro’s bouncing a knee, flexing his prosthetic hand. Reaching out, Keith smooths his fingers over Shiro’s flesh forearm, tracing the veins up towards his wrist before rubbing his thumb over the pulse point. The sleeve of his hoodie is pulled up over the elbow and a tiny circle of red appears in the middle of the bandage. “Three times. How the hell did it take them three times to get a decent stick out of you?”

Shiro grimaces, glancing at the gauze taped over the inside of his left arm. “Now I’m going to be all bruised.”

“You poor thing. I can’t believe you like me enough that you’re willing to bleed for me.” Keith presses a light kiss against the corner of Shiro’s mouth before tucking his head along Shiro’s shoulder. “You know everything’s going to be fine, right?”

Shiro exhales. “I know. I just wanted to be sure,” Shiro says, his words pitched low even though the waiting room is empty. “It’s probably overkill, considering how long it’s been for me but--”

“Hey.” Keith links their fingers together, squeezing. “It’s not overkill. It’s smart. And it’s sweet.” He lets his gaze linger long enough that Shiro meets his eyes. “It’s the most responsible date I’ve ever been on.” He tips up the inside of his own bandaged elbow. “And hey, we match.”

Shiro tips his head back, groaning. “What kind of idiot boyfriend suggests an STI panel in the middle of making out? Me, I’m the idiot.”

“Um,” Keith presses his lips closer to Shiro’s ear, “I think you mean considerate boyfriend? And future-doctor-slash-boyfriend practicing what he preaches? Also, I’m pretty sure there was a mention somewhere in there of us having sex as, you know, the precursor to all of this.”

A flush crests over Shiro’s cheeks. “I mean, yes. Of course I’ve thought about it. A lot. I just finally got brave enough to say it. I didn’t mean for it to take this long for us to actually--”

“You’re fine. You’re perfect.” Keith shakes his head, using his free hand to tug on the laces of Shiro’s hoodie. “Do you know how exciting it is for this to be, I don’t know, actually exciting for me?” Keith lets out a quiet laugh. “I used to shake my head at my friends on the team who couldn’t stop thinking about sex with people they’d just met at parties and shit. I really didn’t get how they could be so obsessed. And then you came along, and now, well.” He shrugs. “Things change.”

Shiro lets out a quiet laugh, sliding his prosthetic hand along the seam of Keith’s ripped jeans to rest on his knee. The touch makes Keith’s stomach flutter and his heart takes an extra beat. “Sometimes for the better.”

“Absolutely for the better.” He grins and drops his voice again. “You thought about what you want?”

Fuck, Shiro’s cute when he’s flustered. “Keith.” He glances around the room, where there is absolutely no one except for the tech at the desk on the far side of the space. 

“I’m just saying that you deserve to get what you want and I’m here for whatever that is.” He waggles his eyebrows at Shiro, enjoying the smile that cracks across Shiro’s face. “But you’re gonna have to tell me. Or, you know. Draw a diagram. Stick figures. Emojis are fine, too.”

Shiro’s cheek presses against Keith’s hair and his fingers tighten between Keith’s. “How do you just _say_ these things?” 

“You literally don’t blink at talking about anything like this in class.”

“Well, yeah, because it’s _class_. It’s medicine.”

“So it’s cool if it’s a textbook diagram of a rectum but not if it’s, I don’t know, my finger up your ass?” 

“Keith.” Shiro’s eyes go wide. “I’m not saying that’s not cool. I have literally not one issue with that. It’s just, you know, the talking part that’s kind of,” he clears his throat. “Difficult. Sometimes.”

He can feel the tension in Shiro’s body where their sides press together. For a moment, he considers dropping the topic to let Shiro relax, but Keith really wants to know what Shiro’s thinking, what he’s craving. “What would make it easier?”

Shiro’s flushed, but he doesn’t pull away. “Like, I think sometimes it helps if you ask me questions. Then I don’t have to just blurt things.”

“It’s okay if you do blurt things, but yeah, I can ask you questions.” Keith rubs his thumb over Shiro’s. “Anything else?”

A little smile tugs at Shiro’s mouth. “A milkshake from the shop across the street, maybe?”

“What, you don’t find this atmosphere particularly inspiring? Is it the vague smell of chemicals and pee not doing it for you? Or maybe the pointed copy of _Healthy Eating_ magazine on the table over there? Because what I really want to ponder while I’m waiting on STI results is if I’m getting enough fiber, you know?”

Shiro snorts loudly at the exact moment that the tech at the window calls his name. He immediately sobers, disentangling his fingers from Keith’s as he stands. “Moment of truth.”

“You’ve got this, big boy.” Keith reaches out and gives his firm ass a light little tap of affirmation.

A few minutes later, Shiro returns with an envelope and a relieved expression. “I’m good.”

“Yeah, you are.” There wasn’t any doubt given the timeline of Shiro’s accident that he hadn’t had a relationship for awhile, but he hasn’t said much about prior partners other than his ex. Keith hasn’t pressed; if there was anything worth talking about, Shiro would bring it up. He might not want to talk about all his desires in bed, but he hasn’t shied away from talking about anything that might have an affect on his health or Keith’s. 

The tech calls Keith’s name, and once he’s retrieved his own envelope and clean bill of health, he strides triumphantly back to the plastic chairs and holds out his hand. “I believe a milkshake is in order.”

The swell of pride that fills Keith’s chest when Shiro slides his hand into Keith’s and they start walking down the main drag of town nearly lifts him off the ground. He loves the soft sway of their arms, the press of their fingertips, the easy brush of his shoulder against Shiro’s. For a brief moment, it feels like they don’t have anywhere more important to be than just next to each other, and Keith savors every second. He bumps their joined hands against Shiro’s hip before they cross the street to the ice cream shop. “Let me guess. You’re getting something double fudge chocolate smothered in chips and peanut butter?”

Shiro snickers. “I’m not _that_ predictable. I was thinking Oreos.”

“Of course you were.” Shiro’s sweet tooth is epic, which only makes his repugnant kale smoothies that much sadder when he makes them for breakfast a few days a week. “You’re the one who got stuck three times. I think it’s only fair that I pay.” 

“Aww, you’re treating me?” Shiro kisses the top of his head.

“Of course.” Keith orders a simple strawberry milkshake and tries not to crack up with laughter when Shiro gives his order, which would satisfy a six-year-old perfectly: a cookie dough milkshake with 2% milk and chocolate syrup, a swirl of marshmallow, mini chips, mashed up oreos added and whipped cream topping. He pays and glances at a small booth in the back corner. “You wanna sit for a few?” He grins. Light pop from five years ago plays through the speakers overhead. “I don’t think anyone will hear us.” 

The way Shiro bites his lip and nods makes Keith’s chest ache just a little bit. Once they get their milkshakes and slide into the booth’s plastic red seats, Shiro links his ankle with Keith’s. It’s unexpected but welcome, the gentle touch under the table. He loves when Shiro makes moves like that, the quiet reassurance that Shiro is as comforted by Keith’s presence as he is by Shiro’s. “You’re cute.”

Shiro licks a bit of whipped cream from his lip. “Yeah?”

“Don’t pretend you’re not.” Keith tears off the end of his straw sleeve, blowing the paper at Shiro’s chest and enjoying his look of mock surprise. “So. You feeling a little more chatty now?”

A blush deeper than Keith’s milkshake spreads over Shiro’s cheeks. “I mean.” He takes a long sip of his Oreo explosion.

“Okay. How about this, I know you really like kissing, maybe we start there?”

Shiro stares into his milkshake for a long moment before he lifts his eyes, mouth set as he takes a deep breath. When he speaks, his voice is just a touch above a whisper. ”I want you to fuck me."

Keith blinks. Once isn’t enough and he blinks again. He thought it was going to take more than a milkshake to get to this revelation, but he’s surprised in the best possible way. “Okay, yeah, that's, wow. I would be very into that. Damn, baby.”

“Um. That’s good.” Shiro dives back into his milkshake, taking a long sip, shoulders hunched.

“So you’ve thought about this?”

“Yeah. Like, a lot.”

God, he’s so sweet. Keith swirls his straw through the fairy-pink concoction in his glass. “What do you picture when you think about it? Where do you want me?”

“Like,” Shiro says, his voice a little breathy, “this time, you mean?”

Keith laughs softly. “Yeah, this time, but there will be lots of other times to do whatever else you want to. I'm team-make-Shiro-feel-amazing, you know?”

A long stretch of quiet passes between them and the slurp of Shiro’s milkshake is comical, but Keith forces himself not to crack a smile. He doesn’t want Shiro to think he’s not taking their conversation seriously. Finally, Shiro releases an exhale. “You. Um. On top.” His mouth twitches. “Of me.”

Keith reaches out and rubs his thumb over Shiro's prosthetic wrist, enjoying the way his metal fingers flex involuntarily at the touch. “That sounds cozy. How do you want to be?”

The blush across his cheeks deepens. “Maybe. Like.” He drops his already quiet voice a bit more. “On my back?”

“As long as you’re comfy, that’s ridiculously hot.” He has a strong feeling that every time he has a strawberry milkshake for the rest of his life he’s going to think about Shiro’s face, this conversation, the way his heart’s beating faster just thinking about being with Shiro. “Anything else you have in mind?”

Shiro takes a long, final drag of milkshake and finally says, “I like when you lean against me. Maybe you could, like, kiss and…” He stops, waving a hand towards himself before he rubs the back of his neck. “But, um, what do you want, though? I’m being way too demanding.” He cracks a frail smile and Keith realizes how much it’s costing him to be this vulnerable. 

Keith squeezes his wrist lightly. “Want to know what would make me happy?” Shiro nods, evoking the image of a golden retriever. “Just knowing that you feel good. That’s it.”

A small frown crosses Shiro’s lips. “Okay, but, that still sounds like you’re making it about me.”

“Fun fact, big boy, I am.” He tilts his head towards the door as he pushes his empty glass towards Shiro’s. “Let’s go home and get comfy before we dive into tonight’s chapters, yeah?” 

++

After two hours, Keith rises from his desk chair, stretching before he notices the square of gauze still on the inside of his elbow. He peels the tape away, inspecting the tiny red mark from the tech’s needle. There’s not even a bruise. Shutting his laptop, he scrubs a hand through his messy hair as he takes a few steps to find Shiro next door. “Baby.” He tilts his head towards the living room. “Couch time.”

The sounds of Shiro turning off his focus playlist--rain and ocean waves--and setting aside his textbooks are enough indication that he’s abandoning his studies for their twenty minute couch session, so Keith heads over and flops on the cushions, staring up at the yellowing drop ceiling. He’s just a touch cold in a t-shirt and gym shorts, but Shiro will warm him up fast. A few moments later Shiro appears, looking cozy in his hoodie and a pair of flannel boxers. “C’mere,” Keith says, reaching out his hand to tug Shiro closer.

Shiro offers his left, and Keith gently pulls him in, easing the worn cuff of his hoodie up to the crook of his elbow. “How badly bruised are you?”

“I haven’t looked. You’re going to be my medic, huh?”

“Of course.” Keith peels back the tape, revealing dark purple marks on the inside of his arm. “Shiro, that’s awful. You want some ice for that?”

“It doesn’t hurt. I’m fine.”

“Lie down with me. I’ll kiss you better.” 

Shiro carefully aligns himself with Keith, coming to rest between Keith’s legs, his head against Keith’s chest. “I think your healing powers are working already.” He lets out a quiet groan. “You sure I’m not too heavy?”

“You’re right where I want you.”

Keith loves the moment when he can actually feel Shiro’s body relax. It’s subtle at first, the gentle softening of his six-foot-four muscular frame, and then comes the long exhale, the way he drops his head more heavily on Keith’s sternum. He knows Shiro can hear his heartbeat, can probably feel it against his cheek, and it brings a flush of pride to know that the sound can actually help Shiro calm down. As he drags his fingers along Shiro’s back, he uses his thighs to lightly squeeze around Shiro’s. “You feel so good.”

A gentle laugh slips out of Shiro’s mouth. “I’m just lying here.”

“I know. I love it.” Keith massages over Shiro’s shoulders. “I like when I have you this close.”

In answer, Shiro smooths a hand along Keith’s forearm, gently tracing over the muscle. “I still can’t believe you went with me to the clinic today.”

Keith grins, brushing his fingertips against the downy undercut at Shiro’s neck. “I mean, I can’t say much about the experience, but the company was top tier.” He sighs, tipping his head forward to kiss the top of Shiro’s head. “And now we both have peace of mind that we’re all good for, you know, whatever happens after exams.”

Shiro snorts as he lifts his head. “You’re not done talking about it, are you?”

“I’ve got more questions, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Fine. Fire away.”

Keith combs Shiro’s wayward forelock away from his forehead. “How do you like to be prepped?”

Instead of blushing or looking away or any of the shy behaviors Keith expects, Shiro’s gaze doesn’t waver. “It doesn’t matter. It’s… just the before, so, it’s not a big deal.”

For the first time in their conversation, Keith feels like the one who’s embarrassed. “Wait, you don’t, you’re saying you don’t have, like, preferences?”

Shiro shrugs. “I mean, I’m not into pain or anything, so like whatever is necessary, you know?”

 _Whatever is necessary._ Keith swallows, perplexed. Shiro has opinions on how he highlights his textbooks and which colors mean what; it seems impossible he wouldn’t have an opinion about this. “Are you cool if I do it, or do you want to?”

A faint smile tugs at Shiro’s lips. “You would?”

“God. Yeah, baby, of course I would.” Keith dimly wonders if that’s not been what Shiro’s used to in the past, but then, this isn’t about that. They’re trying to figure out what works for _them_. “I can’t wait to touch you.”

“You’re touching me right now.” Shiro follows the line of Keith’s collarbone with a fingertip, his smile turning into something a little more mischievous. 

“Fair enough.” Keith sucks in a breath, blinking his long bangs out of his eyes. “What’s your stance on condoms?”

“They’re 98% effective in preventing pregnancy and certain STIs, so, I’m in favor.”

God, Shiro's statistics brain is enviable, if a bit of a romantic buzzkill. “Okay, so, when I asked that, it wasn’t a quiz question, it was more like, as your boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Shiro bites his bottom lip between his teeth. “You meant, like, if _we_ should.”

“It’s totally fine if you want to. Obviously. Future doctors. And, like, this is why we’re talking about this ahead of time. So we can avoid accidentally stepping on condom-shaped landmines while we’re trying to very romantically fuck.” 

“Condom-shaped landmines?” Shiro bursts out laughing, dropping his chin to Keith’s chest. 

Keith groans. “It’s late and my metaphor skills aren’t 100% right now. Just, you know, think about it.” He tousles Shiro’s floof with his fingers. “Because I’ll need to buy some, if so, and I need to know what kind. I get they have them for free in the clinic at school but like, I feel like you deserve something nicer than one with our future alma mater’s name stamped on the foil.”

Shiro tilts his head, staring at Keith with an expression of such tenderness that it makes Keith’s breath catch. “You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met.” He leans forward, pressing his mouth against Keith’s. A moment later, Shiro’s metal fingers slide around the back of Keith’s neck, cradling his head as Shiro drags himself a little further up Keith’s body. All Keith can do is follow Shiro’s lead, letting himself be swept into the kiss as he reaches for the front of Shiro’s hoodie, fingers gripping the thick fabric. Shiro’s kisses are electric, the perfect heat of his mouth making Keith’s heart beat faster, the slide of his tongue between Keith’s teeth eliciting a soft moan.

When Shiro pulls away from Keith’s mouth, it’s only to start pressing more kisses along his throat. “I don’t,” he says, sucking over Keith’s pulse point for a moment, “want you to wear one.”

“Really?” Keith’s voice is breathless. “You’re sure?”

“Wanna feel you.”

“Fuck, Shiro.”

Shiro hums a laugh over his skin. “That’s kinda what I’m hoping for.” The rest of Keith’s questions fade away as Shiro’s flesh hand slips underneath Keith’s t-shirt, sliding over his stomach. It doesn’t make any sense why the light press of Shiro’s palm over his abdomen should make Keith’s nerve endings light up like a sparkler but it does, and he can’t help but swallow back a groan. Shiro kisses him again and Keith rocks his hips up a little to push against Shiro’s weight. 

“You all right? You’re breathing kind of fast.” Shiro’s grin is cheeky as all hell.

“Maybe,” Keith says, voice hitching. He’s tired of waiting. He just wants Shiro, wants to take care of him the way he deserves. He starts dreaming out loud. “Maybe we should just, there’s no reason we can’t, what if tonight--” Shiro’s phone, tucked into his front hoodie pocket, starts to emit an annoying beeping sound. “Fuck.”

Shiro sighs, his forehead falling against Keith’s chest. “Twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes,” Keith repeats.

Shiro’s expression is a little sad, but he gives Keith a smile. “Thanks for the study break.” He kisses the tip of Keith’s nose. “You think we can get a few more chapters done?”

Fuck chapters. Fuck exams. Keith lets out a groan. “Yeah, okay.”

++

The next night, the timer on Keith’s phone chimes. He slams his palm over the screen, silencing it, and shouts, “Finally!” through the thin wall that separates his bedroom from Shiro’s. Or, technically their bedrooms, if they’re getting semantic, since they take turns sleeping in both.

He bolts from the bed, bare feet thudding over faded, thin carpet. Shiro’s sitting at his desk, a pink highlighter perched behind his ear, and he glances up at Keith, giving him a smile. His books are spread out like a medschool aesthetic blog post. “Hey. Did you get through lymph nodes?”

Keith ignores the question. “Do you know what time it is?”

Shiro sips a can of sparkling water with blueberry essence, whatever the fuck that is. “Couch time?”

“Twenty minutes. You. Me. Let’s go.” Keith turns to the door and then stops abruptly. “Change of plans. The couch is too far away. On the bed.”

Shiro puts aside his highlighter and gives Keith a wink, taking the few steps between his desk and bed to rest on the mattress, lying down on his back. In dark grey joggers and a plain white t-shirt, he’s effortlessly hot. The cotton pants emphasize his trim waist and muscular thighs, while the shirt slips snug over his pecs. 

On Shiro, it’s not so much loungewear as thirstwear. 

Keith follows after, climbing to hover over Shiro, his palms flat above Shiro’s shoulders and his knees pressed against the outside of Shiro’s hips. He ducks down for a kiss, light and fast. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” Shiro reaches up, tucking Keith’s hair back behind his ears. “Miss me?”

“Yes.” Keith says, going in for another kiss, this one longer and a bit deeper, savoring the heat of Shiro’s mouth. “One makeout break per night is really not enough.”

Shiro’s prosthetic hand slips into Keith’s hair as the other curls around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue is warm against Keith’s. The scent of Shiro’s bodywash rises up from his post-workout shower, suffusing Keith’s senses. He wants to breathe Shiro in, to strip him to his skin and feel every inch of him. Shiro’s fingers drag up Keith’s spine, under his low-slung t-shirt, splaying until they push Keith a little closer still. His hips press against Shiro’s and Keith grins against Shiro’s mouth. He loves how just a kiss, a wayward touch, can get Shiro half-hard against him. 

Keith presses his mouth against Shiro’s throat, tipping up his jaw until he finds the strong beat pulsing there. He sucks at it and Shiro gasps, Keith’s name soft on his lips. “You know I can feel how fast your pulse is getting, yeah? Just a few kisses and you’re so excited. I love it, baby, love how reactive you are.”

Shiro’s back arches just slightly and the hem of his shirt slips up, allowing Keith the perfect opportunity to slide his palm under the thin cotton. He presses his hand over Shiro’s heart, feeling the beat quicken at the same time he sucks against Shiro’s collarbone, the pulses aligning and gaining speed with every second of Keith’s attention. _“Keith.”_

Keith huffs a laugh against his skin. “Yeah?”

A blush rises on Shiro’s cheeks. “Feels good.”

“Which part?” Keith tilts his head, watching Shiro. He knows Shiro’s mind is full of medical facts and formulas, brilliant and quick, but when Keith tries to get him to say what he wants, what he needs, out loud, it’s like a pop quiz Shiro didn’t study for. He tries again. “What feels the best?”

“It’s all just, I don’t know,” Shiro says, his hands stroking along Keith’s bare forearms. “I just like feeling the weight of you. And your mouth.” Keith stays quiet long enough for Shiro to say under his breath, “Your hand. On my heart.”

Keith grins, folding down to kiss him again. “I love when you tell me what feels good.” 

“Everything you do feels good,” Shiro’s hands tighten around his forearms and the strength of Shiro’s hands leaves Keith a little breathless. He’s so _strong_. Keith loves the ripples of muscle under Shiro’s skin, how each movement of his body reveals some new dip and flex, but he adores the soft spots, too, the slight curve around his hips, the arc of his ass, the gentle slope of his stomach. Shiro’s gaze rises to meet Keith’s. “Can I take your shirt off?”

Keith nods and Shiro leans forward, his abs making beautiful patterns as he grabs the hem of Keith’s t-shirt and pulls it lightly over Keith’s head. Keith fusses with his hair, which is badly in need of a trim, and lets out a gentle laugh when Shiro kisses over Keith’s collarbone. “Everything you do feels good, too.”

“God, you’re pretty,” Shiro says, his mouth dragging along Keith’s skin. Keith drinks in the praise. As much as he loves to sweet talk Shiro, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, too. 

“Yeah? Like what you see?”

“Like doesn’t begin to describe.”

Keith licks his lips, wrapping his arms around Shiro’s broad shoulders. “You’re so sweet, my gorgeous boy. Do you have any idea how hard it is to concentrate on goddamn quiz apps when you’re right next door, looking like you do? Knowing I could be touching you, kissing you, laughing with you?” He tips his head back, releasing a sigh. “Let’s quit med school and just do this for the rest of our lives.”

“Can we?” Shiro pouts. “But I kinda have my heart set on that MD, though.”

Keith’s hand finds Shiro’s heart again, pressing over the point of maximal impulse where he can feel it easily. “I think you might have your heart set on something else right now.”

Shiro buries his face in Keith’s neck. He’s embarrassed, still so hesitant. Keith tries not to push him, but the urge to give Shiro everything he wants is so strong. “Shit.”

“You’re already so fast, baby. But I could make you much faster. You want me to?” He hears Shiro swallow, feels his breathing change. He pushes a little more. “Where’s your steth?”

Shiro ducks his chin. “In the, in the drawer.” 

“You wanna take your shirt off for me?”

It’s a beautiful thing to watch Shiro pull off his shirt in one smooth motion, but even more so when he doesn’t drop his gaze or try to cover himself. Bit by bit, Shiro’s getting a little more comfortable under Keith’s gaze. Keith leans back to get a better view, a smile curving his lips. “Look at you. Just look at you.”

The blush is back. “You see me every day.”

“And I appreciate it every day, believe me.” Keith kisses a line up Shiro’s chest as his hand fumbles for the drawer next to the bed. “Just the thought of touching you got me through three hours of studying Body Systems.” He fishes out the steth, holding the cool, rubber tubing between his fingers. It’s not the one Shiro uses for class or labs; that model is more expensive, with a fancier, tunable diaphragm. “This is the one you bought in college, right?”

Shiro’s nod is barely perceptible. “They, um, sold them. In the bookstore. I just couldn’t believe they were right there, like, behind the counter along with the wireless headphones.”

“I wish I had known you then,” Keith says, examining the stethoscope in his hands. It’s a low-end student model, heavy in his hands. The tubing is black and thick. He rubs his thumb over the metal chestpiece. “Imagine the fun we could have had in undergrad.” He grins. “Making up for lost time now, though.” 

Shiro squirms just a little under him. If he was half-hard before, he’s hard now. “This one’s not as nice.” He reaches out, squeezing Keith’s thighs through his tight joggers. He sounds a little hesitant. “I have a better one, I could--”

“I like this one. It has history.” Keith puts the earpieces in, grateful they’re rubber and not the hard plastic of a cheap drugstore steth, and he presses the diaphragm over Shiro’s apex. He grins as the quick slamming of his mitral valve blocks out all other sounds. “Definitely works.”

He knows it’s turning Shiro on, but it also makes his boyfriend so goddamn nervous that Keith’s first instinct is to soothe him, stroking his free hand along Shiro’s side. He can feel how fast Shiro’s breathing, the inhales only making his chest rise and not his belly. “Just breathe, baby. You’re good. I’ve got you.”

Keith would be lying if he said he understood Shiro’s reaction to being listened to, but he does understand being hard and desperate and wanting someone so badly that your body aches with longing, because that’s what he did from his early days with Shiro until the fateful night of their lab assignment.

Shiro’s still struggling to say what it is he wants, but that’s okay. Keith has more than enough words for the both of them meantime. 

“I’m going to kiss you, all right?” The tension in Shiro’s body makes Keith want to tell him everything he’s doing, everything he wants to do. Keith’s voice is slightly muffled in his own ears, drowned out by the earpieces and Shiro’s pounding heart. He leans forward, pressing his mouth against Shiro’s, loving the way Shiro responds, the way his hips lift. 

His heart beats faster when Keith slips his tongue inside Shiro’s mouth. Shiro’s hands grasp at Keith’s shoulders, fingertips tight. The kiss gets slick and Shiro makes a soft sound, magnified in Keith’s ears by the steth. Keith rolls his hips against Shiro’s crotch, rewarding him for making noise, and Shiro moans into Keith’s mouth. A jolt shoots through Keith’s blood, coiling heat behind his navel. 

Their broken kiss leaves Shiro’s lips swollen, spit-shining. “Your heart’s so fast, shit.” He grabs Shiro’s hand, pressing it to Shiro’s own chest. “You feel that? Feel how hard it’s going?”

The way Shiro looks up at him nearly undoes Keith. His eyes are wide, jaw tight, stomach tense. His blush paints his throat, flushing down to his chest. He says something but it’s too muffled for Keith to hear. Keith pulls out one of the earpieces, kissing Shiro’s cheek. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“It’s,” he says, “really fast.” He looks like he wants to say more, but nothing else comes out. 

“You sound so hot, just racing like that for me. Do you have any idea how exciting it is to know that just kissing can get you so undone? I can literally hear you getting more and more turned on. It’s fucking incredible.” Shiro gasps when Keith rolls his hips again, his heartbeat picking up more speed. If he had to guess, it’s probably around 130. Keith wants to count it but he doesn’t want anything to distract him from eliciting more sounds from Shiro.

“Keith,” Shiro groans.

“It doesn’t seem fair that I get to hear your gorgeous heartbeat and you don’t, you know?” He pulls out the earpieces and turns them around, watching Shiro’s reaction. “I think you should listen to yourself while I make you come. While I watch you.”

“Oh, my God,” Shiro says, his breaths growing more shallow. 

“Is that a yes?” Keith grins.

“Yes, um, yes.”

Keith reaches out and puts one of the earpieces in Shiro’s ears. “Can you hear yourself? I still want to be able to talk to you. Tell you how stunning you are.”

“Yeah.” The word is barely a breath through his lips.

Keith takes Shiro’s hand, pressing it over the chestpiece. “Hold this here, yeah? I like to have two hands when I touch you.” Shiro nods, staring up at the ceiling. “Hey, love, look at me.”

Shiro’s eyes meet Keith’s. “Sorry.”

“No, sweetheart, you’re good. You’re perfect. It’s just us. Nothing else matters right now, just you and me. I love making you feel good.” Keith takes Shiro’s other hand, pressing it over Keith’s erection. “You feel that? How hard you’re making me?” 

“Shit, Keith.”

Keith laughs. “Did that make your heart beat faster?”

Shiro cracks a smile. “Yeah.”

“Good. What a good boy you are for me.” He drags his fingers along Shiro’s chest. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

“Um,” Shiro pauses. “A few days ago?”

“See, this is why we need the built-in getting off breaks. You deserve orgasms whenever you want them.” Keith rubs his hand gently over Shiro’s crotch, feeling his dick through the fabric of his pants, and Shiro cants his hips, unable to stop the moan falling out of his mouth. “Poor thing. No wonder you’re so wound up.” 

“Just,” Shiro manages, “so much other stuff.”

“I know. You’re under so much pressure.” Keith nuzzles against his chest, giving his right nipple a tiny lick, earning another gasp. “You don’t have to hold back. All that shit’s outside this room. Just focus on your heartbeat pounding in your chest, getting ready for you to come so good, so hard.”

“Can you,” Shiro starts, but the words fall apart when Keith starts sucking on his nipple, tonguing the tip.

He backs off. “Can I what?”

“Fuck, Keith, fuck. It’s so much.” Shiro’s ab muscles flutter. “Wanna feel you too.”

“Yes, baby, tell me what you want.” Keith pulls down the elastic waistband of Shiro’s pants, freeing his dick. It rises thick and needy over his abdomen, lightly pulsing in time with his bounding heart. “You need this so much. You’re so hard for me, just so ready. So beautiful.”

Shiro reaches out to tug at Keith’s waistband. “Wanna come with you.”

“Yeah? You want me to take us both in hand, stroke us off and make a mess?”

Shiro whines and the sound makes Keith’s heart race. “Yes, baby.”

Dragging down the waistband of his own pants, Keith’s not surprised to see his dick pearling with precome; it’s been aching since he told Shiro to get on the bed. “Look what you do to me. You’ve got me leaking, Shiro. Got me so turned on with your gorgeous body and your racing heart.” He leans forward, kissing Shiro and taking his lower lip into his mouth, tugging at it a little with his teeth. “How’s your heart? You still nice and fast for me?” He presses fingers against Shiro’s neck, grinning when he finds the breakneck pulse there. “Oh, yeah, you are. Good boy. You ready for me to touch you?”

“Please, please.” Shiro writhes a little under Keith as he gets himself closer, lining up their dicks and dragging his against Shiro’s. “Yes, that’s… _Keith_.”

The shockwaves of instant pleasure that hit when they rub against each other is addictive and Keith does it again, levering his hips and then adding his hands, using their precome to slide over their hot skin. “You feel so good. You’re so good. I can’t believe how fucking sexy you are right now, listening to your heart while I touch you, so fucking close and you’re still holding back.” He thumbs over their slits, gasping at how the touch shakes Keith’s own core. He’s close, too. “You don’t need to wait. Just come for me, come for me.”

Shiro’s eyes shut and his breathing turns to pants as Keith rocks against him, his hands stroking faster. He’s so busy trying to get Shiro off that the imminent arrival of his own orgasm is a surprise, like the playful slap of an ocean wave before a much larger one bears down. Everything about the scene before him is hotter than anything Keith could have imagined: the quiet moans rising from Shiro’s mouth, the spread of his fine, muscled body underneath him, Shiro’s stethoscope pressed over his own chest as Keith chases down their pleasure. Shiro’s body quivers and Keith speeds up his movements. “That’s it. Come, baby.”

Shiro does, hips lifting, Keith’s name in his mouth. He comes across his own stomach and chest, both heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Watching him lose control tips Keith over, unable to stop his stream of consciousness commentary. His mouth and his dick have the same idea. “Fuck, yes, Shiro. So good, you’re so good, fuck, fuck, yes!” He spills over his fingers, coming over Shiro’s hips and abs, his brain dizzy with chemicals and hormones whose names he can’t remember. “Shiro. Oh, my God.” He’s careful as he adjusts himself over Shiro, gentle as he loosens his hold on their dicks but doesn’t let go. He uses his free hand to lightly squeeze Shiro’s hip. “Hey, beautiful. Still with me?”

“Holy shit, Keith,” Shiro presses a palm over his eyes, laughing a little as he pulls the stethoscope from his ears. 

“Feeling better? A little less stressed?” 

“This was supposed to be makeout time.” Shiro stares up at him, dazed. “I didn’t know you’d give me the best orgasm I’ve had since,” he stops. “Well, since the last one you gave me.” He pushes up on his elbows, his blush fading and a languid tone taking over his voice. “Everything you say, the way you touch me,” he drops his chin. “It’s just so damn good.”

Keith’s grin is wicked. “Oh, just wait. As soon as our exams are over, we won’t just have twenty minutes. We’ll have an entire night for me to show you how fucking good I can make you feel.” He taps Shiro’s watch. “Three more days.”

++

Over the next few days when they’re not studying, they’re talking—about everything. He knows Shiro well enough now that he’s very aware that surprises don’t spark joy for his boyfriend, so over late-night burritos he starts asking Shiro more about what he likes and doesn’t like in bed. At first Shiro tries to brush him off, saying they’ve already talked about it, but after a little coaxing and pointing out that one conversation over a milkshake wasn’t going to cover _everything_ , he starts to say a little more, the scar over his nose flushed pink with his blush. Having his mind full of all the things Shiro was into trying with him nearly makes Keith vibrate out of his skin. 

Despite his new mental wikipedia of Shiro’s desires, he knows that this, tonight, is a big fucking deal. They’ve taken their time, gone slow, messed around and gotten each other off in any number of satisfying ways, and Keith’s grateful they didn’t rush. It wasn’t just Shiro who felt unready to take the next step; for all his dirty-mouthed bravado, Keith realized after a few brief encounters in college that he really wasn’t feeling much in the way of sexual attraction to his partners. He’d settled into the idea that maybe sex and romance weren’t really his thing, and he was okay with it. Med school wasn’t exactly a great time to work on relationships, anyway. He figured he was honestly better off.

Then Shiro walked into his apartment and in a matter of hours, a friendship forged between them like a lightning strike, electric and changing the landscape in ways Keith never could have expected. It wasn’t until he found himself jerking off in the shower a few weeks after the start of the semester while fantasizing about Shiro’s big, beautiful hands down his pants that Keith realized that somehow he’d tripped into full-blown, hip-deep feelings for his roommate. True to fashion, he’d proceeded to shove those feelings down until, like Shiro’s heartbeat confession, everything spilled to the surface. 

For someone who loves to talk, Keith’s not always adept at saying how he feels. 

The apartment’s empty when he arrives home, just as planned. His brain’s nearly mush from hours of exams, but he only has a short window to enact his vision before Shiro gets home from his haircut. The man is like clockwork, always going every seven weeks. Keith tugs absently on his tiny ponytail. He keeps thinking of making an appointment but he hates making phone calls. 

He heads straight to the bedroom and starts tidying up, carrying the trashcan around and disposing of his late-night candy wrappers and energy drinks, the remnants of his study session from the night before. There’s a banana peel on the side table and he smiles, tossing it in the bin. Only Shiro could inspire him to eat an actual piece of fruit when he’s in the throes of academic despair. 

He strips off the sheets and shakes out his pillows before pulling a fresh set from the linen closet. They’re dark blue and make him think of the night sky, which inspires him to dig through a box from college and pull out a few coiled wires of white twinkle lights. As he winds them around the headboard, he thinks about how beautiful Shiro will look in the low light, how soft his skin will feel under Keith’s hands. It makes his pulse speed just to smooth his fingers over the blankets as he makes the bed, knowing that he’ll get to take care of Shiro soon. 

Bending down, he pulls his most recent Target haul from under the bed: a few candles, mason jars, matches, and fancy lube that’s an actual name brand. He also picked up a box of condoms just in case Shiro changes his mind, but he shoves those back in the bag and under the bed, hoping they won’t be needed. The candles smell like juniper and cedar, according to the label, but the scent is light and reminds Keith of the bath products that Shiro prefers. He finds a few choice locations around the room for them before lighting them, far enough away from the bed so that there won’t be any chance of knocking them over, and then places the lube on the bedside table. Hands on hips, he surveys the room and frowns. 

The moon lamp.

He crosses to the corner, puts it on, and then turns off the overhead light. 

Between the filtered illumination of the candles, the twinkle lights, and the glowing moon, for a moment Keith’s room no longer looks like a shitty apartment space, but a peaceful oasis, smelling faintly of fancy trees. He takes a breath, trying to calm himself down. It’s just enough for Shiro to know he cares but not so over the top that he’ll feel like Keith made a fuss. 

Before Shiro gets home, Keith manages to jump in the shower and wash off the stress sweat from his exams, letting the hot water relax the tense muscles of his shoulders and back. He knows if he lets his mind drift to Shiro that he could get hard and the temptation to quickly jerk off to soothe his nerves is strong, but he resists. He rinses himself off with water slightly colder than he usually does, shaking out his damp hair and pulling on his favorite pair of black boxers. Crossing over to Shiro’s room, he looks through his perfectly organized closet to find a gray vintage-style Star Wars t-shirt. It’s worn and a little big on Keith, enough that the neckline dips around his collarbone. The shirt’s a bit of a secret weapon; he knows it’s a huge turn-on for Shiro to see Keith wearing his clothes, and when he mixes it with Shiro’s favorite franchise, well. 

When the jangle of keys outside the door finally arrives, Keith looks up from where he’s sprawled on the couch, phone in hand as he puts the finishing touches on a playlist. They hadn’t really talked about music during sex but Keith likes to be prepared. Shiro puts down his bag with a thunk as Keith climbs over the arm of the sofa, heading towards him. Keith tilts his head before tugging on the zipper of Shiro’s tech jacket. He must have gone to the gym; he’s wearing different joggers than this morning and sneakers. “Your haircut looks nice.” 

Shiro stares. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

“I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“I… don’t.” Shiro’s chest hitches as Keith undoes the zipper, revealing a fresh, white tank underneath. “Looks good.”

Keith pushes up on his toes to kiss him hello, his hand sliding inside of Shiro’s jacket. His boyfriend is unusually stiff, his muscles tense under Keith’s fingertips. “You okay?”

Shiro inches closer, wrapping his prosthetic around Keith’s back. “Yeah. Okay. Just.” He lets out a soft exhale that tries to turn into a laugh. “I thought it would help to talk everything out but now that I know what to expect I don’t know how to ease into this, you know?”

God, he loves this beautiful, brilliant, overthinking man. “Like this.” He starts to kiss him, still on his tiptoes, his fingers dragging along the thin fabric of Shiro’s tank, tracing along his ribcage. Shiro’s lips are a little cold from the night air, but they warm quickly. With his free hand, he squeezes up Shiro’s left forearm to his bicep, feeling the involuntary flex of the muscle underneath his fingertips. Keith licks a little into his mouth, loving the way Shiro’s lips open for him. “God, you feel good. My beautiful boy. ”

Shiro curls himself closer, his metal fingers pressed tight to Keith’s spine and his left hand creeping under the Star Wars t-shirt, touching over his stomach. Keith’s abdomen flutters under Shiro’s palm as he draws a breath. “Are my hands cold?”

“No.” Keith kisses him again. “I’m just excited. The only thing I have to think about tonight is you. Stunning, brilliant, perfect you.”

Shiro’s gaze holds Keith like gravity. He pulls him close enough to feel Shiro’s quickened breaths. “I shouldn’t be nervous. It’s you. I trust you.”

“You’re allowed to feel anything you want to, Shiro.” Keith drops his voice, nuzzling against Shiro’s collarbone. “There’s no _shoulds_ tonight. I’m here for whatever you want to do, for whatever feels right.” Keith kisses over a scar across the middle of his clavicle. “No checklist. Just taking care of each other, yeah?”

Shiro’s body softens a little under Keith’s hands. “Taking care of you sounds good.”

“Mmm, you always do.” Keith turns a grin on him. “You wanna do that thing you do with your tongue that makes me crazy? Because I could use more kissing right about now.”

Shiro laughs as Keith drags his tech jacket off his shoulders and down his arms, dropping it on the floor. “I’ve never known anyone who loves kissing as much as you do.”

“That’s because I get to kiss _you_ and you’re a fucking rockstar at it.” Keith leans heavily against him. “Come on, big boy.”

Shiro flushes a little at the praise, cupping the back of Keith’s neck and seeking out the heat of Keith’s mouth, taking their kisses deeper, harder. This is what Keith’s been waiting for, the moment when Shiro stops thinking so much and lets himself go. Shiro’s hips grind against Keith’s, sending a flare of arousal through him. Shiro feels so fucking good that it makes Keith breathless--the press of his hands against Keith’s skin, the warm swipe of his tongue against Keith’s, the barely audible sigh of pleasure, the strength of his arms. It’s heady and stunning, and the longer it goes on, the more relaxed Shiro’s body gets.

Keith lets out a moan as Shiro’s big palms slide down his back, coming to rest over his ass. Nimble fingers squeeze the flesh, dragging Keith closer. “Fuck, yes.” Shiro’s mouth moves over Keith’s throat, sucking under his jaw, and fantasies of his own marked-up skin appear in Keith’s mind. He wants Shiro’s mouth on him, wants to see where he’s been when he looks in the mirror tomorrow morning. “God, baby, you’re so good.”

The hands cradling his ass suddenly grip harder and suddenly Keith feels himself being lifted as Shiro holds him up, supporting his weight. Instinctively Keith’s legs wrap around Shiro’s waist, his arms following to twine around Shiro’s neck. Their chests bump against each other and Keith laughs, a little giddy. Usually Shiro’s shows of strength are planks and push-ups, but this is a turn-on of another sort. For a moment he remembers their first kiss, the night that changed everything, and how Shiro swept him up into his arms. “Oh, I like where this is going.”

Shiro’s chest rumbles as he laughs. “Yeah?” His lips are just a bit swollen, a flush high up on his cheeks. “Um, so, where are we going exactly?”

“My room,” Keith says, pressing kisses along Shiro’s jaw. “Got it all ready for us. Wait until you see the mirrored ceiling I had installed in there this afternoon. It’s very motel chic. I didn’t go for the champagne glass-shaped hot tub, though. Not enough room.”

Shiro snorts and carries him like he’s no heavier than an armload of medical textbooks. “I really hope you didn’t go to any---” He stops at the doorway, a little gasp escaping him. “Keith.”

It’s a strain to turn around in Shiro’s arms, but Keith does. “What? Shit! Is something on fire?”

“You,” Shiro swallows hard enough that Keith feels the movement of his throat. “Look what you did.”

For a moment Keith wonders if maybe the twinkle lights were a step too far, or if maybe the candles smell weird to Shiro. “I can undo it really fast if it’s not your jam.”

“No, it’s,” Shiro stops, his voice thick. “You made it pretty.” He takes a step further into the room. “It’s like starlight.” He’s not wrong; the play of the tiny white lights mixed with the flickering candles and the soothing glow of the moon definitely gives it a night sky vibe. Pride swells in Keith’s chest. 

“So, you like it, then?”

Shiro presses his face into Keith’s neck. “I love it. It’s beautiful. I can’t believe you’d do something like this for me.”

He hugs around Shiro’s neck a little tighter. “I just wanted you to feel special. Because you are. And, like, believe me, if my budget wasn’t tied up in food and shelter, I’d do a hell of a lot more for you.”

Their embrace lasts a little longer than Keith expects. He wasn’t expecting Shiro to get quite so taken aback by twinkle lights and juniper candles, but it feels so good to get it right. After a long moment, he sets Keith down on the edge of the bed, tugging a little on the neckline of the Star Wars shirt. “It’s weird to think that we have more than twenty minutes.”

Keith tilts his head to kiss Shiro’s prosthetic. “We have all the time in the world.” He looks up between his lashes. “You wanna get me naked?”

“Is that even a question?” Shiro grins. “You want me to just tear your clothes off or do it all slow?”

Keith lets out a snort. “This is your favorite t-shirt. I already know you’re gonna take it off slow and probably fold it afterwards.”

“I mean,” Shiro drops his chin, letting out an embarrassed chuckle. “I’m open to draping it over a desk chair. It doesn’t have to be folded.”

“You’re getting more adventurous. I like it.” Keith reaches out and squeezes his hip. “Undress me, baby. Want you to touch me.”

Shiro takes the hem of the Star Wars shirt and gently pulls it up and over Keith’s head, pressing a kiss to Keith’s temple before he, true to his word, puts it aside over the chair. “Look at you. So pretty for me.” Shiro’s hands glide over Keith’s shoulders and down his arms, the touch bringing gooseflesh to Keith’s skin. “I love seeing you like this. You’re so gorgeous.” He leans in to mouth at Keith’s throat. “You smell good, too.”

“You like it when I smell like fancy trees, huh?” Keith grins, tipping his head back a little to enjoy the heat of Shiro’s lips.

“I do. I appreciate your commitment to the woodsy aesthetic.” Shiro’s hands drag along Keith’s chest and abdomen, coming to rest on his thighs. “There’s so many things I want to touch, it’s hard to know where to start.”

“It’s hard, is it?” Keith snickers, loving when Shiro stops overthinking and just leans into the moment. He lifts his hips slightly as Shiro touches the waistband of his boxers.

“Fuck, Keith.” Shiro tugs the boxes down, inch by inch, finally revealing Keith’s dick, which is already flushed and hard. “Look at you. All this just for me?”

Shiro’s hands around Keith’s hips ground him, keeping him from floating off the bed. “Just for you. Only you.” 

The slide of Keith’s boxers down his legs is glorious; Shiro takes his time, even kissing inside his knees and once on each ankle before the fabric drops to the floor. Keith leans back on his elbows, the mattress yielding under him as he opens his legs to Shiro, his breath quivering as his boyfriend’s hands caress along each thigh. “You like this? Like me all spread out for you? Let you see me start to leak for you?”

Shiro doesn’t answer; he surges forward and captures Keith’s mouth, robbing him of the next dirty thing about to roll off his tongue. His weight presses against Keith, pinning him in place, but Keith’s not interested in being anywhere but on the bed, naked, hard, and underneath Shiro. While Shiro might not be an expert in saying how he feels or what he likes, he communicates _plenty_ when he kisses Keith--the sweep of his tongue, the careful way he supports Keith’s neck, the gulp of air before he deepens the kiss, the thrust of his hips up against Keith’s body as he arches his back. One hand grips the back of Shiro’s tank top, yanking it up, while Keith’s other hand slides up Shiro’s chest, bumping over the ridges of his abs until his palm finds Shiro’s pounding heart. 

Shiro gasps into Keith’s mouth, his ribcage heaving with his breath, and he smooths Keith’s hair out of his eyes. The twinkle lights cast soft warmth on his skin, illuminating his smile. “You’re so, so pretty. My beautiful Keith.” He leans forward to mouth at Keith’s throat, but turns the movement into kisses instead of something more.

“You don’t have to hold back, baby. Exams are over. No school for weeks. Mark me up all you like.” Keith huffs a laugh. “I know you like that. Putting your mouth on me. Leaving little reminders of everywhere you’ve been”

“Fuck, Keith.” Shiro groans against his collarbone.

Keith tilts his head against the mattress, exposing more of his throat. “I’m all yours.”

After two blinks, the heat of Shiro’s mouth blooms along the side of Keith’s neck, his teeth scraping against skin as he laves his tongue over the marks. It’s not painful; it’s just raw and heady and Keith’s brain stops for a moment as Shiro moves up a little, sucking over the pulse point. He knows Shiro can feel how fast his blood is pumping. Keith’s thigh moves between Shiro’s legs and even with his joggers still on, the hard imprint of his dick is palpable. “That’s it,” he sighs, loving how Shiro’s shedding his inhibitions and letting himself go. It’s glorious to watch. “That’s it, sweetheart. Mark me up. Put your mouth on me. Fuck, that feels good. You feel so good. You’re so desperate and needy and I want to give you everything, everything you want.”

“Want you. Want you so much.” Shiro’s weight shifts and Keith feels a little drip of saliva skim down his throat from Shiro’s focused attention. HIs eyes shut and he just drifts for a moment, giving himself over to every sensation, every press of Shiro’s mouth and every place their bodies touch. He can barely skitter his fingers over Shiro’s ribs, or grab at Shiro’s tank top before another wave of heat at the juncture of his neck makes his body tremble and his pulse race. He didn’t imagine Shiro getting this bold this early, but he is fucking into it. 

A breathless laugh shakes out of Shiro as he finally pulls his lips from Keith’s skin. “I didn’t mean to get so carried away.” He gently touches Keith’s throat. “You okay?”

“I’m perfect.” Keith’s eyes snap open, roving over Shiro’s body. “You’re still dressed, though.”

“You like that? When you’re naked and I’m not?” There’s an actual smirk on Shiro’s face and Keith’s taken aback. 

Keith grins. “I did at first, but now I’m just impatient. If I don’t see you naked in like the next five seconds, I might die.”

“Good thing I’m gonna be a doctor, I guess.” Shiro’s wink nearly undoes him.

“I wanna strip you right now.”

The twinkle lights illuminate Shiro’s hair, making him look even more angelic than usual. “You and your good ideas.”

Keith pushes up on his knees to face him, taking the hem of Shiro’s tank top between his fingers. He tugs it up slowly, revealing Shiro’s ridiculous abs inch by inch. “I swear that just seeing you without your shirt on gives me serotonin,” Keith says, leaning forward to kiss the exposed skin. “God, and you smell so good.”

Shiro blushes as Keith kisses between his pecs. “Yeah?”

“So smooth, too.” He drags the pads of his fingers over Shiro’s bare chest. “You got a wax just for tonight, didn’t you?”

“I mean,” Shiro gives a soft laugh. “I like to look good for you.”

“You look good for me every single second of every day without doing a single thing.” He gives Shiro’s pec an appreciative squeeze, loving how the flesh gives under his palm. “But I like that you like it.”

Shiro leans into his touch, reaching out to gently tug on the ends of Keith’s hair. “It’s getting long.” He swirls a thick lock around his finger, and Keith likes the faint prickle against his scalp. “It suits you.”

“Not too shaggy for you?” Keith chuckles, settling his hands on Shiro’s warm hips.

“To be honest, I have a thing for that little ponytail you put it in sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah?” Keith slips fingers along the elastic waist of Shiro’s joggers. If he tilts his head, there’s enough light thrown from the twinkle lights to illuminate Shiro’s very kissable throat, and Keith can just make out the fluttering pulse there under the skin. “How’re you feeling, big boy?”

“Excited.” Shiro takes a shallow breath, his chest barely rising. “Nervous. A lot of other things.” He smiles. “But good things.”

“Speaking of good things.” Keith tugs on Shiro’s pants, dragging them down over the swell of his hips and down his gorgeous thighs. “I’m looking at a few right now.” He leans forward, kissing along the waistband of Shiro’s hip briefs. They’re a deep purple, trimmed with a silver band, hugging his muscular frame, curved around his hips and the top of his thighs. “Baby, are these new?” He whistles. “Damn.”

Shiro blushes, color rising along his scar. “I was gonna get them in black, but…”

“I love you...in purple,” Keith says, clearing his throat when he realizes how close he almost came to saying something else. Shiro’s already hard, his dick filling out the briefs in ways that an underwear model could only dream of. Keith’s mouth starts doing what it does when he’s turned on: dirty talk with a side dish of babbling. “Not only are these hot as fuck, look at your goddamn v-cut.” Keith traces over the lines in Shiro’s skin. “Obliques, meet transversus abdominis. Shit. I mean, I get that, like, medicine balls are involved but this has to be genetics, right?”

Shiro snickers. “You really want to talk about my ab workout right now?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, if you want to, it’s fine.” Keith closes his eyes when, thankfully, Shiro presses a kiss to his mouth. 

“You were doing pretty well until I distracted you with my new undies.”

“Right. I love them. Purple.” Keith squeezes Shiro’s ass through the thin fabric. “But they’ve gotta go.” 

“I’m definitely not stopping you.”

Pulling off Shiro’s briefs feels like an unveiling at a museum. Keith tugs them down his thick thighs, careful to pull the band away from his perfect dick, which is already beading at the tip, flushed a deeper red than the rest of him. “That is worth studying an entire semester for. I would take a thousand tests just for a glimpse of you, baby. Look how hard you are for me.” Keith wants to touch, wants to just stroke Shiro off right there and see how his muscles tremble when he comes, but not yet. There’s so many other places to touch first.

“C’mere, gorgeous.” Keith tugs gently on Shiro’s wrist, pulling him towards the bed, laughing a little as Shiro shimmies his underwear from around his calves and ankles until they’re pooled on the floor. “I don’t want there to be a single spot on your body I haven’t kissed.”

Shiro tips forward, collapsing gracefully next to Keith on the mattress. “You should start here,” he says, holding up his left bicep. He points to his arm, flexing a little, because he can and he’s so strong and Lord, how is Keith going to hold it together? “Right here.”

Keith does, loving how warm his skin is. “Is this the part of our program where I tell you how fucking stacked you are and how hot I am for you?”

Shiro tries to keep a straight face, but he starts laughing before he can get the words out. “I just thought if you started there, it would be humerus.” 

Oh, my God. _”Shiro._ Keith groans, not wanting to get caught up in Shiro’s terrible anatomy jokes but he’s already cracking up before he can stop himself. “I swear to God if you follow that up with a boner joke--”

The goofy grin on Shiro’s face is worth every single awful moment of studying for the last month. He adores that smile, the one when Shiro’s not trying to impress anyone. “I got the pun out of my system. I’m good now.” Shiro turns over on his back, arms over his head. “You still think I’m sexy and want to fuck me?” He lifts his lips a little, like he wants Keith to touch him. 

“Yes and yes.” Keith runs his palms over Shiro’s thighs, moving closer. “You wanna open these up for me?”

Shiro’s knees fall apart and Keith nudges between them, resting both his hands on Shiro’s stomach, feeling how fast he’s breathing. “You know how fucking hot you are right now? All splayed out like a goddamn buffet? So hard for me, so open for me? Such a good boy.”

Shiro’s eyes flutter shut at the praise. “You gonna touch me?”

“I am touching you.” Keith’s fingers slide up as he leans closer into Shiro’s space. “And I’m not going to stop doing that for a long time. I’m gonna get you all warmed up until you’re panting and moaning and then I’m going to open you up so slow and so good you’re gonna forget everything except my name, because I still wanna hear you say it.”

“I love your dirty mouth.” Shiro’s grinning, reaching for the back of Keith’s neck and cupping it. “Kiss me again?”

Keith slides up his body, straddling over his hips, rocking forward once to feel the delicious slide of their dicks. “I promise there will be lots of kissing, too. I’ve met you. I know what you like.”

“You do know what I like,” Shiro says, and there’s something so precious about how he says it that Keith has to swallow for a moment to regain his composure before he dives in, kissing him like they’ve been apart for weeks. Which, in theory, it feels true, despite their make-out breaks and the couple times one of them woke up from an exam-induced nightmare in the three hours of sleep they’ve been averaging per night. 

Kissing Shiro is all-consuming. He’s all warm skin, taut muscles, cool metal, wet heat. There’s nothing about his body that doesn’t feel amazing and all Keith wants is to get closer, closer, closer. They’re pressed chest to chest as Keith uses one arm to prop up his own weight while the other trips over ribs and grabs at hips. He loves the sweet, chaste kissing they do before labs, a soft peck on the way out the door, but this, _this_ , when it’s messy and their lips are swollen and the needy gasps of their breath are all Keith can hear, this might be his favorite. 

Shiro is the hottest man Keith’s ever seen. He knows Shiro could be kissing anyone. He could be moaning into someone else's mouth, have his fingers in someone else’s hair. 

But the only one he does it for is Keith.

“So good,” Keith rasps, his hand moving up to squeeze Shiro’s left pec, massaging over his nipple. “Fuck, you’re good. Perfect.”

Shiro groans Keith’s name, tipping his head back as Keith sucks Shiro’s lower lip into his mouth. He rolls his hips, giving just the hint of pressure over Shiro’s dick, and his boyfriend’s groan turns into a keen. Keith’s teeth scrape lightly over Shiro’s lip, dragging the flesh as he lets it go. “I love your pretty sounds, sweetheart. Don’t hold back for me.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” Shiro gasps, his words cut off as Keith licks into his mouth, seeking out Shiro’s tongue and sucking on it greedily. Shiro’s hands flutter at Keith’s spine as if he’s having trouble figuring out what to do with them, and Keith savors the press of warm and cool as they grace his skin. 

Shiro’s rocking his hips up, seeking friction, and Keith lets him for a moment, only to pull back and push up on his knees. “Oh, baby, I’m going to give you so much better than that. I know you’re so needy right now, but just wait, all right?”

“I want it,” Shiro groans. “Just touch me, please. I just want you so bad.” The muscles in his neck stand out in relief as he lets out a shuddering breath. “Make me feel good.”

“You’re so good, so good for me. You deserve to feel amazing.” Keith presses one more heated, messy kiss against Shiro’s mouth until finally he pulls back, resting a palm over Shiro’s pounding heart. “I can feel how fast you are, baby. Just racing for me. You like that I can feel it, don’t you? How your heart gets when you’re so turned on?”

Those words only spur Shiro’s heart on, and the thumping under his hand increases. “Yeah.” He’s dipping his chin down, a little bashful like he always is when heartbeats come up, and Keith can hardly stand how beautiful he is. 

“I wanna hear it. Hear you going so fast.” Keith leans forward, pressing his cheek over Shiro’s sternum. Immediately, the rapid-fire rhythm of Shiro’s heart gallops faster just from Keith’s attention. “I love how just me listening gets you even more excited. I’m gonna make your heart race like no one else while I fuck you and I’m gonna feel it and know that’s because of me.” Keith lets out a stuttered laugh, one of pure wonder. He’s still not over how lucky he feels to be this close, to be able to not just see but _hear_ Shiro’s desire for him. “Listen to you, such a good boy. Getting even faster.”

Shiro’s breath catches as his grip tightens. “Keith.”

“My gorgeous boy.” Keith’s free hand strokes Shiro’s flank as he grins. He leans in to whisper in Shiro’s ear. “Only you would think heartbeats are kinky.”

Suddenly Shiro makes a sound, but unlike the ones before it, this one, Keith is sure, isn’t pleasure. Shiro’s body goes rigid under Keith’s palms, his breath shuttering in his chest. Shiro’s hands fall away from Keith’s skin, and from the corner of his eye, he sees Shiro grab a fistful of sheet, muscles tight. 

Keith lifts his head from Shiro’s chest. “Baby? What’s wrong?” Shiro says something, but it’s so quiet that Keith can’t hear. “Hey. Talk to me.”

“Off,” Shiro says, and then he says it again, a little louder and not a small bit desperate. “Get off, please!”

Keith complies immediately, climbing off of Shiro. As soon as he does, Shiro removes all contact between their skin, drawing up his knees and pulling away towards the headboard, jostling the twinkle lights. Keith’s frozen, his stomach dropping. “Shiro, what’s the matter? Are you okay?” 

Shiro is silent, pulling a pillow into his lap and hugging it to his chest. He glances at the door and Keith wonders for a moment if he’s going to bolt, but he doesn’t. Instead he just breathes deeply, in and out, and Keith realizes he’s probably not far away from a panic attack. He reaches out his hand towards Shiro’s shoulder, but doesn’t make contact, unsure if it would be welcome. “Can I touch you?” 

It takes Shiro a beat longer than Keith expects for him to lift his chin, but he still won’t look at Keith. His starlight hair spills over his forehead as he shakes his head no. 

“Okay. I won’t do that right now.” Keith drops his hand, taking a breath to steady himself. It pains him not to be able to touch him, but he also knows that he needs to wait until Shiro’s ready. His throat feels tight but he swallows back against it. “Does anything hurt? I didn't hurt you, did I?” 

“No,” Shiro finally says, his voice so quiet that Keith has to lean forward to hear him. Shiro presses his flesh hand over his eyes, curling in on himself against the pillow. “I can’t do this.”

Keith exhales. “Baby, it’s okay. It’s fine. We don’t have to do this. We can take all the time you need. The only thing that matters to me is that you’re comfy, okay?”

A sound, something like a stifled groan, leaves Shiro. “No, I mean, _this_.”

“Um.” He rubs the back of his neck, trying to soothe the sudden rush of uncertainty flashing through his veins. “I’m not sure I understand.”

For the first time, Shiro meets his eyes, and the candlelight washes warm over his face. Keith wants to hold him, to comfort him, but he won’t move until Shiro says so. “I...I like you too much.”

Keith feels like he did when he was skating too fast in college, like he’s careening too close to the rink wall. “Um, I like you, too. I mean, it’s good we feel this way about each other, right?”

“I don’t know how to,” Shiro stops. He’s biting his lower lip so hard Keith’s afraid it’ll start to bleed. “It’s not just sex, Keith.”

“Well, that’s a relief, because it’s way more than sex for me, too.” He inches a little closer to Shiro on the bed, but not enough for their knees to touch. “I’ve never,” he traces his finger over the blankets, “never felt like this before. For anyone.”

Keith can hear Shiro swallow. “Me, too. And I want to, but I don’t know how to.” He drops his face into his palm again. “It’s all my fault. This is my fault.” 

“Hey, sweetheart. Nothing’s your fault. We talk things out, yeah? Just like we have been. Like we will again in the future. Whatever you need to say, I’m here. However long it takes.” Keith reaches off the edge of the bed and picks up Shiro’s favorite metal water bottle, the one with a _MD in process_ loading bar sticker. “Take a sip?”

He accepts the bottle, taking a quick gulp, his fingers trembling. When he speaks, the words rush out, nearly slurring. “My, uh, ex thought it was stupid.”

Keith almost blurts a question, but he catches himself at the last second. Shiro’s not done speaking and he’s afraid if he doesn’t let him finish, Shiro might lose his courage.

“He wanted to know what I liked. I told him and it happened one time. Then never again. And we never--I never--it just didn’t get talked about and so I didn’t bring it up, because why would I?” Shiro takes another drink of water. “Like, he thought it was dumb. Or that I was.”

Quiet stretches between them until Keith’s sure Shiro’s not going to speak again. Open-ended questions; his textbooks go on about open-ended questions because that’s how you get patients to say more. Hopefully it also works on boyfriends. “What was it that you wanted to happen more often?” 

Shiro scoffs, tapping on the metal bottle. “He made a joke about it. He couldn’t imagine how anyone would think _that_ was, like, hot or that it was—“ He lets the sentence hang in the air. 

Keith takes a sharp breath, his own words coming back to him, the last thing he said before Shiro went still. _Only you would think heartbeats are kinky._

Fuck. 

He’s been asking Shiro what he likes, but not what he _needs_. 

“Can I,” he says softly, “can I touch you? Hold your hand?” He extends his palm, fingers outstretched. 

“I guess.” Shiro sets aside the bottle and lets Keith slide their palms together. The warmth of their skin feels like a balm, enough to give Keith more steadiness in his voice.

He gives Shiro’s hand a light squeeze. “Okay. So, hold on, can I say back to you what i'm hearing you say?”

Shiro looks down and away from Keith, but he nods. 

Keith’s used to raising his hand in class and figuring out what he’s going to say as he opens his mouth. Half the time he doesn’t think before he speaks. He’s the kind that fills up the quiet, because that’s what you do when your dad dies and your mom goes on secret government missions and no one’s talking and all you have inside you are words.

But he damn well needs to think about what he’s going to say now.

There’s a piece of him that feels foolish for not seeing this before, how vulnerable Shiro’s been with him, and yet how tentative. Shiro’s motivations for everything in his life are always beyond the superficial; why would _this_ be any different? The fact Keith hadn’t put these pieces together before now, and literally while they’re both naked and Shiro’s teetering on the edge of a panic attack, makes Keith’s chest tight. 

Shiro’s ex undid him with a few words, and Keith unwittingly opened those old wounds. Maybe he can try to start mending them. 

“Let me know if I’m on the right track, all right?” He pauses for a moment, pitching his voice lower. It’s the kind of tone he likes to use when he’s waking Shiro up, a little gentler, kinder. “What I said before, I was trying to be appreciative of you, but I think it brought up bad memories. I’m sorry for that.” He draws a breath, looking down at their joined hands. “So, like, heartbeats aren't just about sex or kink for you, they're more than that. Like, way more.”

Shiro is so, so still.

He rubs the pad of his thumb over Shiro’s knuckles. “You got brave enough to tell your ex about what you’re into and you tried to bring it into the bedroom, but he didn’t get it and made you feel badly about it. And it kind of fucked you up inside, because you thought you could trust him.” 

Keith’s careful not to say what he wants to say, which is that Shiro’s ex is a piece of shit, but he really doesn’t want to spend a moment longer invoking that garbage man into their conversation. 

Shiro doesn’t speak, but he drops his chin enough to form a nod. God, he’s so proud of him.

Keith lifts Shiro’s hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “Are you afraid I’ll tease you about it?”

Shiro’s hugging the pillow in his lap tightly against his chest, using it like a shield as he looks down. “I don’t,” he says, voice rough, “I don’t think you’d do that.”

“What are you afraid of, baby?”

“Shit,” Shiro says, scrubbing his metal wrist over his face, leaning into it so Keith can’t see him. “Like you’ll...you know.” His breath shudders, followed by a quiet sniff. Shiro’s crying. He’s crying and Keith wants to gather him in his arms but he can’t do that, not yet. Everything in Shiro’s body language says he’s not ready. “That you’ll get sick of it. Of me.”

The air in Keith’s lungs gets caught halfway in his chest, frozen. There’s so much vulnerability in Shiro’s voice that he squeezes Shiro’s hand unconsciously, his mind racing to find the right combination of words that will reassure him. He knows Shiro’s insecure--hell, who isn’t?--that’s not new or surprising, but the depth of his fear is. 

Most of the time, Keith skated indoors on perfectly leveled rinks, but he occasionally had the chance to skate outdoors when the team went to schools with frigid temperatures. When they’d gone up to Boston in January, they’d snuck out in the middle of the night for a mildly drunken practice, and the lake wasn’t quite as solid as it looked. Keith remembered the way the ice sounded as it fractured beneath him, the quiet groan of it as he tried desperately to inch towards safer ground, cracks splintering out across the surface with each movement. 

He imagines his face then looks like Shiro’s now--desperate, bewildered, frantic. Keith knows what it’s like to have the solid ground underneath his feet give way, the plunge into cold deep enough to burn. 

Keith pulls a breath before he speaks. “I know I can’t make the fear go away with a few simple words, but I wish I could. I hope you’ll hear me when I say this, but I could never be sick of you, or anything that’s a part of you.”

Shiro’s scoff huffs against the pillow. “I know you only do it for me.”

“Baby.” Keith tilts his head. “I just wanted it to be about you because I wanna give you everything, but fuck, you think I don’t love listening to you?”

A beat passes before Shiro looks up, tears still welling in his eyes. 

“Do you know how good it feels to know I'm the one you trust? That I'm the one who gets to listen to you?” 

Shiro swallows. “Seriously?”

“Fuck, yes. And like, don’t get me wrong, I love feeling and hearing how fast you get when I’m touching you, and you know I can’t stop bringing it up in bed because let’s be real, my dirty talk skills are pretty top tier, but sweetheart, if you think I’m only into your heartbeat when you’re about to come, you’re wrong.” He tips Shiro’s hand up, kissing over the pulse of his wrist. 

The only word Keith can think of to describe Shiro’s expression is floored. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you know how good it feels when I wake up from a bad dream and you’re right there and I can feel your heartbeat and it just instantly makes me feel so safe? Or when we get home from a long day and I can lay on you and listen and hear that you’re calm and it makes me calm down?” He presses his mouth against Shiro’s knuckles. “Your heart doesn’t just turn me on, it’s another way that I know you.”

“Keith,” Shiro whispers, leaning forward to rest his forehead against their joined hands. His shoulders drop and in illumination front the twinkle lights, Keith sees goosebumps on his skin.

“Baby, you’re cold.” Keith grabs a throw blanket from the end of the bed, tucking it around Shiro’s shoulders, rubbing gently over his biceps through the fabric. “You want me to make you some tea?”

Shiro shakes his head. His eyes are still wet, but he opens his arms towards Keith. “Just want you.”

“You’ve got me.” He pulls Shiro against him, feeling the warm weight of Shiro’s chin against his shoulder, the way Shiro’s palms splay over Keith’s back, the soft shudder of Shiro’s breath as he finally starts to calm. “You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re okay.”

Keith closes his eyes, breathing in the scent of the candles, focusing on the way Shiro’s body feels pressed against his own. Shiro holds on like someone clinging to a raft, as if he might be swept away otherwise. He’s so proud of Shiro that his chest aches. 

After a minute, Shiro finally lifts his head, pulling away far enough that he can meet Keith’s eyes. “I’m,” he says, tears still drying on his cheeks, “I’m sorry.”

Keith brushes Shiro’s forelock away from his face, grateful to feel how Shiro leans into his touch. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

“I didn’t mean to, like, go catatonic.” He drops his chin, using the blanket to dab at his blotchy cheeks.

He presses a kiss to Shiro’s forehead. “You didn’t. You told me what was going on. It was brave of you to tell me.”

“I didn’t know how to explain,” Shiro tries, letting out a sigh. “I still don’t. You must think I’m such a giant mess.” 

“I don’t think you’re a mess. I think you’re precious.” He cups Shiro’s face between his palms, holding him gently. “And I think someone convinced you that the things you like and need aren’t worth paying attention to. Which, by the way, is bulllshit. You are worth paying attention to. Even the parts of you that you keep hidden.”

Keith lets one hand slide down Shiro’s neck, tracing over his collarbone. “Can I feel your heartbeat?”

Shiro’s mouth twitches and Keith hears his sharp intake of breath. “I...okay.”

He slips his hand under the blanket still around Shiro’s shoulders, moving along his ribcage until he can feel the movement of Shiro’s heart under his fingertips. “There you are.” It flutters a little at his touch, settling out a few moments later, though still faster than usual. The beats are strong, easy to feel in his muscular chest, which barely moves with Shiro’s shallow breaths.

Keith’s held back some of his questions, but now, it feels strange to let them go unsaid. “You wanna talk about it?”

Shiro’s heart reacts before he does, beating harder for a moment. A weak laugh dies in his throat. “I mean, _no_ , but I’m not sure I’ll ever be brave enough to talk about this again so, maybe yes?”

It’s such a Shiro answer. If he’d outright refused, Keith would have let it lie, but he gets the feeling there’s more Shiro wants to say. “What do you want to tell me?”

About ten of Shiro’s heartbeats pass before he finally opens his mouth. “I've spent so long thinking about this I should damn well know how to explain it but, I just...I never thought I'd have someone who cared about me this way, or you know, liked the heartbeat thing. I never let myself dream about how I'd talk about it when just _thinking_ about it felt shameful for so long."

Keith rests his other hand on Shiro’s knee, gently squeezing. “You don't need to make the words prettier for me, baby. I just wanna know how you feel.”

The deep breath Shiro takes slows his heart for a few seconds, but whatever he’s about to say has it ratcheting up again. “I...I like when you feel it. Or when you, you know, listen. Not just with sex—even though I love that—but like, after.” He swallows, voice a little shaky. “Or like now.”

He blinks up at the ceiling, his lower lip caught between his teeth before he speaks again. “When you do that, it makes me feel like.” He stops. Every word is costing Shiro, Keith knows, but he keeps his mouth shut. Shiro recovers, clearing his throat. “Like you’re with me, like I’m seen, like, I don’t know, like I’m real.” He meets Keith’s eyes for a millisecond before he looks away again. “Fuck, that sounds crazy.”

Keith rubs his thumb over Shiro’s knee. “It doesn’t at all.”

“How can you just say that?” Shiro’s voice is tinged with a groan. “Like you just accept it? Like it’s easy?”

“I mean, this isn’t a hardship to me,” Keith says. It’s clear how worked up Shiro’s getting from how fast the beats are under Keith’s fingers and he wishes he could calm him. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Shiro’s chest drops a little when he sighs. “I know you don’t deserve the bill for what he did. And, like, there were a lot of ways we weren’t compatible. Before the accident, I was pretty sure he got bored of me, but after, well.” He gestures vaguely at himself, fingers grazing over his scars. “I was too much.” 

“You’re not too much.” Keith lifts his free hand and strokes over Shiro’s cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re just right.” 

Shiro tilts his head, leaning into Keith’s touch. “God, I just…I’ve spent my entire adult life putting this in a box and I met you and you let me take the lid off and I keep expecting I’ll have to put the lid back on but....but maybe I don’t want to? Like, maybe for the first time, it’s safe not to?”

The way Shiro looks at him, the sheer vulnerability, makes Keith’s throat tight. “I’m glad I can give you that. And for the record, I’m seriously fucking proud of you, baby. This isn’t a small thing. I know this isn’t easy for you to talk about.”

Shiro’s hand slips up to press over Keith’s, and Keith wonders if Shiro can feel the rapid beats tapping against his fingers as easily as Keith can. “You keep showing me that I can trust you and I swear, every time I just fall harder.”

Keith’s stomach flips. “Yeah?”

“Oh, baby.” Shiro kisses Keith’s palm. “You make me want so much it terrifies me. You make me want everything. You make me want to…” He pauses, eyes wide, bright in the faux moonlight, tears brimming in the corners. “Say things. Things I’ve been wanting to say.” 

Suddenly his heartbeat kicks up faster under Keith’s hand, thumping madly, as if he’s in fight or flight. He feels Shiro take a quick breath, a faint smile on his face. “I--I love you, Keith.” 

Keith opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He swallows, throat burning, looking up at the ceiling as if that’ll stop the sudden sheen over his vision. Halos form around the lights wrapped along the bedframe. While Shiro’s heart seems to start to slow, Keith’s ratchets up, knocking hard against his ribcage.

Shiro reaches out with his prosthetic, cupping the back of Keith’s neck. “I’ve never seen you at a loss for words before.” His touch, like his tone, is soft.

Inhaling sharply through his nose, Keith swipes at his eyes, feeling tears slip through his fingertips and down his cheeks. “No one’s ever,” he says, a little taken aback by how his voice wobbles. “Said that to me.” He keeps his hand on Shiro’s chest, but now more to steady himself.  
_He loves me. Shiro loves me._ Keith’s grinning even as he can’t quite catch his breath.

“I, um,” Shiro says, covering a laugh with a cough. “I’ve kinda been holding that in.”

Keith blinks, still trying to make words come out in the right order. “For how long?”

“I mean.” Shiro shrugs. “A minute.” His heart’s speeding up again. “Like from maybe earlier on and I didn’t want to freak you out.”

Keith leans in, pressing a kiss against Shiro’s mouth. “Since when?”

He looks up from under his lashes. “Since the first night you kissed me. And, you know, everything else that happened.”

“God, baby, and here I thought I was going to scare _you_ off when I nearly let it slip tonight when I said I loved your underwear.” Keith drags a hand down his face. “And I do. Love your underwear.” He looks over his shoulder to where Shiro’s clothes lie on the floor. “I mean, you’re not wearing them now. Obviously.” He lets out a small, sheepish laugh. “Do you remember when I had game? Like ten minutes ago?”

Shiro’s hand cards gently through his hair. “Did I kinda blow your mind?”

“You really did.”

“And you’re, you know, okay?”

“Holy shit.” Keith tips his head back. “Shiro, I’m sorry, I got so off track with the damn underwear that I didn’t say it back. I wanna say it back.” He grins, clearing his throat. “Can I start over?”

Shiro nods, the expectant, hopeful expression on his face making Keith’s heart lose a beat. “Okay, wait.” Keith waves at him. “You say it to me again.”

“I love you, Keith.” If anything, it’s only sweeter the second time.

Fresh tears spring into his eyes, but he doesn’t wipe them away. “I love you, too, Shiro.”

He’s so grateful when Shiro presses a kiss to his mouth, because he’s not sure how to follow up the first time he’s ever told anyone he loves them before, and kissing seems like the right response. He hopes maybe Shiro won’t notice that his cheeks are wet, but, of course he does.

A few moments later, Shiro dots light kisses across Keith’s cheekbone. “Baby, you’re crying.”

“I kinda thought people were just being dramatic about saying that to someone, but,” Keith sniffles a little, holding tighter around Shiro, “turns out I was wrong. It’s big.”

Shiro’s arms are warm and Keith lets himself rest inside them. He nods, leaning his forehead against Keith’s. “It is.”

“And also, for the record, I’ve been thinking about how much I love you for awhile now, too.” He lets out a faint laugh. “Just so you know.”

“Oh, yeah?” Shiro’s fingers stroke along the back of Keith’s neck, under his hair. “How long?”

He closes his eyes. “It was at 3:19am on a Tuesday. Three weeks ago.”

“You know the _minute_?”

“Yeah. Because I got off the secure chat with my mom, and you’d already gone to bed, and I came out of the room and you left a tumbler of hot chocolate on the table and a note that said _wake me up when you're done._ ” Keith chews on his bottom lip for a moment. “You knew this was going to be hard, because I wasn’t going to see her for break, and you made the hot chocolate with dark cocoa and milk instead of the cheap powder and water, and you’d been up for nearly a day and you still wanted to check on me.” He gulps a breath. “And I just knew.” 

The softness on Shiro’s face confirms everything Keith already knows—this is what it feels like when you feel the same way about someone at the same time. 

“Baby.” Shiro’s touch grounds him, each brush of his fingers bringing peace. An adorable snort shakes out of him. “So we’re in love.”

“We’re in love.” Keith says it, the words strange in his mouth. He can’t wait to get used to them.

“Does it feel different?”

Keith considers. “Yeah, it does? But better? Because now you know? And I know? And I’m just so happy that I can’t even, like, breathe properly?”

“I know the feeling.” Shiro kisses him gently. “I knew tonight would be a lot but,” he stops to shake his head, illumination falling across his face from the twinkle lights. “I’m kind of seeing stars.”

“Me too, but it’s hard to look at anything but you.” Keith smooths back Shiro’s forelock, kissing the skin underneath it. “Tonight’s not over, you know.” He meets Shiro’s eyes. “We could still, I don’t know, order food?”

Shiro laughs, the warm sound filling the room. “Maybe we could order after?”

“After?” Keith blinks, lips curving in a smile. “Are you saying--you’re saying you’re still up for it?”

The expression that crosses Shiro’s face is nothing short of mischievous. He tugs the pillow out of his lap, setting it aside, and looks down. “Apparently, yes.”

Keith snickers, falling against Shiro’s shoulder. “God, I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Shiro kisses along Keith’s neck. “Any chance I could convince you to, I don’t know, make me feel good?”

Desire floods Keith like a tide. “Anything you want, baby. Just say the word.” He knows he’s pushed Shiro to say so much tonight, but he needs to hear this right now, to know for sure what Shiro’s asking for. 

Shiro’s breath brushes his cheek as he leans close to Keith’s ear. “I want you to lay me down and bury yourself in me.”

Shiro’s words are so potent that it makes Keith swallow. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He presses a long kiss to Shiro’s mouth before he finally pulls back, rearranging the pillows to make a comfortable spot for him. “You wanna lie back here for me?”

Before he moves, Shiro tugs off the blanket from around his shoulders. “Have a feeling you’re gonna keep me warm.” He reclines back against the pillows, his expression a little bashful as he looks up at Keith. “Is this where you want me?”

“You’re perfect.” Keith positions himself between Shiro’s legs, reaching out to squeeze his hipbone. “Can you lift up for a sec? There you go.” He slides a pillow underneath Shiro’s pelvis, taking the time to drag his fingers up and down the inside of Shiro’s plush thighs, careful not to tickle. “You comfy?”

“Yeah. M’good.” 

Shiro’s breath quickens and Keith leans forward, smoothing a hand down Shiro’s trembling stomach. His skin is soft as down. “Will you let me show you what you mean to me? Let me take care of you?” He kisses across Shiro’s chest, fingers stroking gently over his heart. “Will you let me see you?”

“I--please.” Shiro shudders, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. His dick is flushed, thick and hard against his lower belly. 

“Such a good boy.” 

Touching Shiro feels decadent. There’s so much to feel, to explore. The landscape of his body is the most beautiful place Keith can imagine: the dips of his abs, the thick curves of his shoulders and thighs, the swell of his ribs, the press of muscle under warm skin. He allows himself the freedom to just _touch_. He smooths hands along thighs and calves, kisses his stomach, strokes palms down his arms, traces fingers over his collarbone. Where there’s scar tissue, he lavishes extra attention there, his touch gentle over the marbled whorls and faded marks. While Keith moves across Shiro’s body, Shiro’s hands follow him, his own fingertips smoothing over Keith’s arms and shoulders. Keith can hear him breathing, the sharper intake of breath when Keith thumbs over his nipples. 

Every bit of Shiro deserves attention.

Keith’s not sure how long this goes on, lost entirely in the movements of his hands and mouth against Shiro’s skin, but when Shiro’s quiet voice speaks up, Keith stills. “Um, what are--what are you doing?”

Keith kisses over Shiro’s ribs again. “Touching you.” He takes a long breath. “Wanted you to know how precious you are. How much I love getting to be this close. To feel you like this.”

A sigh escapes Shiro’s mouth as his weight dips back into the mattress. “Your hands feel so good.” He groans. “And your mouth.”

“That’s it, baby. Look at you relaxing for me. You’re doing so well.” Keith slides his hands down towards the flat of Shiro’s belly, where dark hair begins. “You wanna tell me how you’re feeling?”

Shiro’s back arches as he lifts his hips, straining towards Keith’s touch. “Desperate.” He tries to laugh, but it falls apart with a hitched moan. “Need you. Keith. Please.”

“I’m right here.” He keeps one hand on Shiro’s thigh as he leans off the edge of the bed, plucking the bottle of lube off the bedside table. “Just stay like that, sweetheart. You want me to tell you what I’m going to do? How I’m going to open you up?”

“Don’t stop talking,” Shiro says, eyes fluttering shut. “Love it when you talk.”

Pride floods Keith at the thought that his words can not only make Shiro feel cared for, but can turn him on. “You’re so beautiful like this. Can’t believe you’re mine.” He kisses the inside of Shiro’s left thigh, sucking a little before laving the spot with his tongue. “Just hold on for me.” 

Keith drizzles lube over his fingers and starts massaging Shiro’s hole, tracing around it in small circles. “That feel good? You like things slow, or do you want me to go a little faster?”

“I—fuck, Keith.” Shiro’s body quivers under Keith, letting out shallow, little pants. He puts his free hand on Shiro’s belly, trying to soothe him. “Ahh, more.”

“You sound so pretty right now. Love how your breathing’s all sped up, the little needy sounds you make. Don’t be afraid to make noise, let me know how you’re feeling, okay? Gonna slip a finger in, sweetheart.” He does, easing inside, grateful that Shiro’s body offers less resistance than he expected; he was hoping his touch would relax Shiro a bit and it seems to have helped. Shiro lets out a quiet moan as his hands grip the blankets beside him. “You’re so warm, so gorgeous.” 

He pumps his finger in and out slowly, marveling at the way Shiro’s body responds. His hips tremble and each breath reveals more flashes of his stunning abs, muscles flexing under his skin. “Look at you,” Keith says, admiration lacing his voice as he strokes fingertips over Shiro’s stomach. “So strong. God, your body’s got me dripping.” 

He adds another finger and Shiro’s head tips back. “How’s that feel?”

“Shit,” Shiro huffs. “So good.”

Keith rubs his fingertips along his walls, hearing the squelch of lube as he drags them forwards and backwards, opening and closing them as he goes. “When’s the last time you fingered yourself?”

Shiro keens as Keith’s fingers press deeper. “Been awhile,” he pants. “Sometimes I use a toy—ahh, fuck!” His body jerks and Keith grins.

“A toy, huh? I’d like to see that someday.” He keeps up his movements, stroking inside until Shiro groans again. “So sensitive, my beautiful boy. Right here, huh? This little spot?”

Shiro’s hands scrabble against the sheets. “Keith!” His voice breaks, his chest heaving. “Please. Need you. Need you so bad.”

“Shh, I know. I know. I can see how hard you are, Let me help.” Reaching out with his free hand, he lightly palms Shiro’s cock, stroking its length and smearing precome over the warm, tight skin. “Better?”

Shiro’s back arches as he thrusts into Keith’s hand, hips rising off the pillow. He gasps, breath stuttering as Keith’s hands start matching in rhythm, one stroking his cock and the other sliding in and out of his hole. “Keith! Fuck, I’m—close, I’m close—“

“You’re so good, so good for me,” Keith praises, loving every moan and needy sound rising from Shiro. “Yes, baby, you sound so gorgeous. Just lie back and let me take care of you. You’re—“

Shiro comes, hard and fast, with a keen that sounds like Keith’s name. Hot come runs down Keith’s fingers as he eases him through it, Shiro’s body trembling and chest heaving until the tension leaves his muscles, his belly going slack. “There you go, sweet boy, that was so good.”

Instead of looking blissed out, Shiro’s expression tightens. “I wanted—sorry, I didn’t mean to come so fast.” He tries to drag a deep breath, but he can’t quite yet. 

“I loved it. So damn hot.” Keith gently releases Shiro’s cock, kissing along his inner thigh. “That I can get you there so fast? Shit, baby, that’s going to boost my ego all night.” He switches to the opposite thigh, sucking over skin for a moment, fingers still warm inside Shiro. “You were amazing.”

A tentative pout forms on Shiro’s lips. “I kinda wanted to come with you.”

Keith grins. “You still might. Wanna find out?”

The laugh that shakes out of Shiro is everything. It’s so good to see him smiling, just pure, uninhibited joy. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Keith kisses the inside of his left knee, studying the lines of his body, seeing where the tension’s left him. “You need a minute?”

“No, I’m good.” 

“You are. So, so good.” Keith slips in another finger, no longer feeling any resistance. “You’re nice and relaxed for me now.” He readjusts himself, patting Shiro’s thigh with his free hand. “Can you open up your legs a little more for me?”

Shiro does, and he makes a soft, sad sound as Keith slides his fingers out. “Want you so much,” he says, voice hitching. 

“You’ve got me.” Keith’s thought about how it would feel to fuck Shiro, to be fucked by Shiro, so many times that this moment seems surreal. He’s imagined so much and the reality of being between Shiro’s legs, of smelling his arousal and feeling the press of his skin against Keith’s own is so much more heady than any daydream could allow. He gives himself a few strokes--shit, he’s so hard it _aches_ \--and covers his dick with lube before he lines himself up with Shiro’s entrance. He presses in and lets out a gasp as his tip slips inside. The immediate pressure and heat is searing, pleasure racing through him like a rising tide. “Fuck, Shiro, you feel so good.”

Shiro had just gotten his breath back, but it’s gone now, his chest rising and falling in quick pants. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop, need you all the way in.”

The urge to move is so strong, but Keith doesn’t want to overwhelm him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, please, just more,” Shiro says, speaking through gritted teeth. Keith hesitates for a second and then leans in, pressing deeper, which draws a whimper out of Shiro.

Keith freezes. “Good sound or bad?”

“Good.” A shudder moves through Shiro’s body. “It’s good, it’s good, keep going.” He hiccups a laugh, cracking open his eyes to meet Keith’s gaze. “I can’t believe this is finally happening.”

The last vestiges of any self-consciousness that Keith has dissipate in that moment. Shiro’s _happy_. He’s making Shiro feel _good_. “I was just thinking the same thing, like this is what I used to fantasize about in Body Systems and like now I’m halfway buried inside you and it’s so fucking good?” He cants his hips forward, watching more of himself disappear into Shiro. “Like I need to up my daydream game because you are literally the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life?” 

Shiro’s legs tremble as Keith finally bottoms out, his chest coming to rest on Shiro’s. Keith’s panting now, too, overwhelmed with the tight heat around his dick and the close warmth of Shiro’s body. Shiro’s staring up at him, gray eyes so wide that Keith swears he can see nebulas in them. “Love you.”

“Love you.” His voice cracks, and Keith can’t help but press a tender kiss to his mouth. One hand comes to rest on Shiro’s chest, his fingertips mapping out his boyfriend’s pounding heart.

“Oh,” Keith says, leaning forward until he rests his ear on Shiro’s ribs. “You’re so fast. Just listen to you.” Shiro’s thighs press tight against Keith’s body and his breath seems to short out as Keith gives a gentle laugh. “I can’t believe I’m inside you and I can hear what it’s doing to you. Is all that for me, your heart racing like that?”

Shiro’s prosthetic slips under Keith’s hair, his fingers gripping tight. “Everything’s for you.” 

“I love it. Love how it feels, how powerful it sounds.” Keith tilts his cheek to kiss the nearest patch of skin. “Do you have any idea how good it makes me feel to know that I turn you on this much?” He starts to push himself away, to start to move, but Shiro holds him fast.

“Keith. Stay.” His voice is strained, like it’s difficult for him to speak, and Keith soothes his hand along Shiro’s ribcage.

“I’m not hurting you, am I? Not too heavy?”

“Feels good. So full.” Shiro’s chin tips up, his breathing labored but steady. “Like feeling you everywhere. Just want this. A minute.”

“As long as you want, baby. As long as you need.” 

After a few quiet moments, Shiro’s heart actually starts to slow down a little, and Keith murmurs praise against his hot skin. “Can hear you relaxing for me. You’re so good, feel so good. I could just stay here all night, listening to you, kissing you.”

Shiro’s left hand grabs at Keith’s bicep, squeezing tight. “Want you to come inside.” His pulse picks up from his words, always giving him away. 

“Okay, love.” Keith lifts his head slightly, lapping at Shiro’s nipple, which immediately hardens at the attention. “That feel good?”

Shiro’s grip on Keith’s arm tightens, while the hold on Keith’s hair loosens. “So good.” Keith immediately moves to the other nipple while Shiro pets over Keith’s neck. “Ready now.”

This time it’s Keith’s heartbeat that starts to fly. He pushes himself up slowly, watching Shiro’s face for any signs of discomfort. “You’re so beautiful. Can’t believe I get to see you, feel you.” He bites his lip, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious, not to mention hard enough that he’s afraid he might come on the first stroke. “You’re, um, okay if I move now?”

Shiro reaches up, smoothing Keith’s hair back from his face. “Yeah, pretty boy. Make me feel good.”

Suddenly it’s like Keith can’t remember where his limbs are, how to move. He gives an embarrassed smile, pulling back his hips. “This might take a second.” Adjusting his knees a little, he almost loses his balance, tipping a little while still managing to stay inside, but catching himself on Shiro’s thigh. “Oh, my God.” Flustered laughter sneaks out of his mouth. “I’m so sorry. I’m not bad at this. I promise.” 

“Like you could ever be anything but wonderful.” Shiro sits up on his elbows, his abs flexing as his leans in. “C’mere. Kiss me.” Keith does, closing his eyes and taking a breath as Shiro’s mouth presses against his, firm but soft. It’s just the moment he needs to gather himself, to remember that this is _Shiro_ , the person he loves, the person who gets him in ways no one else ever has. 

A warm hand comes to rest over Keith’s heart. It’s beating hard enough that Keith can feel it in his throat. “Baby, yours is so fast, too.” Shiro’s gaze is warmer than a down blanket. “You good?”

Keith swallows. Damn, it’s a heady thing to have himself deep in Shiro while he feels his heartbeat. His words come out in a rush. “You feel so amazing and I can barely even remember my own name and I don’t wanna disappoint you.”

“You never could.” Shiro’s hands come to slide up and down Keith’s forearms. “Just breathe. You’re doing so good.”

Keith breathes, bringing his hips back a bit, and then slides back in. “Fuck,” he whispers, as Shiro’s tight heat drags along his length. It takes him a few tries to get a rhythm going, but when Shiro grabs behind his own thighs and pulls them to his chest to give Keith more access, Keith nearly gasps at the angle. “Baby, holy shit, you feel so good, so good.” His lungs hitch as he loses control over the needy sounds he’s making now. “You’re so… bendy.”

“I think about...you,” Shiro pants, “when I do...yoga.”

“Shiro,” Keith manages, picking up the pace a little. He’s getting better at angling himself. He can hear Shiro’s moan whenever his dick hits his prostate just right. “Shit, I’m already so close! You’re so tight and hot and so good for me, so good, I can’t--” Keith’s words fall apart as he groans over the slap of his skin against Shiro’s.

“That’s it, baby.” Shiro starts crooning words in between his ragged breaths. “Right there. God, you’ve got it, shit.” He lets out a surprised laugh. “Fuck, you’ve got me hard again. You feel that? Feel what you did?”

Keith’s hand slips between their bodies, palm curling around Shiro’s dick. “You bounce back fast.”

Shiro’s mouth falls open as he gasps. “You’re pretty—nnghh—fucking inspiring.” 

He realizes that Shiro’s hips are rising to meet his as Keith draws himself in and out, only increasing the sensation and making each thrust that much more powerful. Shiro’s so strong that Keith can feel himself being lifted slightly off the mattress. 

It’s difficult to concentrate on anything except the slick slide of his dick and the overwhelming pressure building behind his navel. Keith’s thighs and stomach are so tense that it burns, and every time Shiro’s walls tighten around him, the sounds Keith makes are nothing short of needy cries. 

He has the presence of mind to swipe his hand between their bodies, gathering enough lube and come to slick Shiro’s dick, feeling Shiro arch under him. He’s trying so hard to hold off until he can get Shiro there, too, but he’s losing his rhythm. He’s trembling, senses overloaded.

Shiro’s voice cuts through the noise. “Come for me, baby,” he pants. “Don’t hold back. You’re so good for me, just let go.”

It only takes two more thrusts before Keith’s orgasm hits, wringing a desperate cry out of him as his heart pounds, his spine tight as he empties himself into Shiro. His eyes are screwed shut and all he can feel is Shiro’s hand pressed against his back, grounding him as Keith’s body shakes through the rest of his orgasm, trying and failing to get a breath. 

He wants to speak, wants to tell Shiro how amazing he is and how beyond stunning he feels, but all that he’s capable of are tiny mewls. 

“There you go. Good boy.” Shiro murmurs loving words as Keith holds himself up, still shaky. Dimly he’s aware of Shiro reaching between them, taking himself in hand. “Will it be too much if I come while you’re still inside?”

Right. Shiro’s still hard. Keith shakes his head and wheezes, his hand brushing over Shiro’s. “I can help,” he pants. 

“Shh, I’ve got it. So close, just feeling you, watching you come.” Shiro moans, his chest heaving as he strokes himself faster. 

Keith’s definitely not thinking clearly yet but he has the presence of mind to cover Shiro’s heart with his palm, feeling the pounding muscle underneath his ribs. “Such a good boy,” he says, lost in the thumping beats beneath his hand. 

Shiro keens when he comes, his walls tightening against Keith as he releases. The sensation is just shy of overstimulation along Keith’s length, making him gasp, but somehow manages to feel like just enough instead of too much. Shiro’s dick pulses between them, leaving a trail of hot come over Shiro’s stomach, splashing up on Keith’s. 

Shiro lets out a sound midway between a laugh and a gasp. “Holy shit. That was so hot.” His breath stutters a bit as it starts to even out, and Keith can feel Shiro’s heart start to slow, its pace dropping leisurely as the last aftershocks of his orgasm leave him. 

Keith snorts, feeling suddenly giddy. “You’re hot.” He lifts his hips, surprised by how shaky he still is, and gently slips out of Shiro. It’s hard not to stare at the trail of his own come leaking from Shiro’s ass. “So hot,” he says, mouth dry. He wobbles on all fours before inelegantly collapsing on Shiro like a newborn foal.

“Oof,” Shiro grunts, catching him and settling him on his chest. “I’ve got you.” 

“Yeah, you do,” Keith says, grateful to have landed someplace so warm. Sticky, but warm. He pulls a breath, letting it out in a hitched sigh. “Oh, my God.”

“You,” Shiro says, “were amazing.” Metal fingers comb Keith’s hair off his sweaty forehead. “I’ve never felt so taken care of.”

Pride swells in him and Keith presses his cheek into the divot between Shiro’s pecs. “Yeah?” He traces his fingers over Shiro's ribs. “The sounds you made, baby. I loved that so much.” He’s quiet for a moment, listening to Shiro’s chest. “Your sweet little heart's still pounding.”

Shiro chuckles, his left arm wrapped around Keith’s shoulder. “Gonna take me a minute to come down from that.”

“Mmm.” He knows Shiro likes to cuddle after anytime they’re intimate with each other, but the way he’s holding Keith, the way he links their ankles together, there’s only room for breath between them. “Do you have any idea how amazing it was to feel you like that under me?”

Shiro flushes. “Probably about as amazing as it was to have you on top of me.” He cranes his neck until their mouths meet, kissing Keith once, twice, three times. Shiro’s so tender with Keith all the time, but nothing compares to his post-orgasm doting. “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay? You cold?” Shiro’s arms tighten around him. “You’re a little bit shaky.”

“I am?” A tremor moves through Keith’s body and he tucks himself even closer to Shiro’s side. “That’s kinda weird. Sorry.”

“Shh, don’t be sorry.” Shiro kisses his temple and then carefully moves out from underneath of Keith, using his considerable strength to reposition Keith on his back, making sure to get a pillow under his head. Suddenly Shiro’s warm weight dips over Keith’s body, covering most of him like a blanket. “Here. Maybe this’ll help.”

Keith lets out a pleased groan. “Oh, my God.”

“This okay, baby?”

He groans again. “Fuck, yes.” He doesn’t think he was cold, exactly, but something about the pressure of Shiro’s body on his makes him feel safe and wanted. It doesn’t immediately stop his trembling, but it definitely takes the edge off. “So much better.”

Shiro readjusts himself, resting his head on Keith’s chest. “You’re sure you can breathe?”

Keith laughs. “I’m pretty sure you could hear if I wasn’t.” He traces his fingertips along Shiro’s shoulder blades, feeling the relaxed muscle under the skin. “Was it, you know, what you thought it would be?” He swallows. “Was it okay?”

Shiro nuzzles his cheek against Keith’s sternum. “It was so much better than okay. So much more than what I thought.”

“Like, you liked what happened, or you liked how it felt?” Keith seeks out Shiro’s prosthetic, linking his fingers with Shiro’s. “I just kinda need to talk it out, if that’s okay.”

Shiro nods, his deep breath pressing his ribcage against Keith’s for a moment. “I think it’s just... different with someone who gets you. Someone you love. And like, you were so focused on me. I’ve never been with anyone who wanted me to come first.” He lets out an awkward chuckle. “Not used to that.” He rubs his metal thumb over Keith’s knuckles. “Honestly I thought I was going to come just from your fingers.”

Keith grins, following the line of Shiro’s spine under his damp skin. “So the prep was okay?”

“It was fucking perfect. Your fingers are so long and they just, you were, like, gentle but also you took your time and—like, I never enjoyed it so much.” Shiro hides his face a little against Keith’s chest. “Like I haven’t come untouched before but I swear you could make it happen.”

“Fuck, Shiro.”

Shiro laughs. “Your heart just started beating way faster. I think you’re into that idea.”

Keith feels a flush rising up his throat. He’d forgotten Shiro could hear his heartbeat. “I mean, only if you are.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of things you could do to me that no one has before.” 

“I,” Keith says, struggling to swallow. “I could say the same thing about you.”

Shiro strokes over Keith’s right hipbone. “I liked that you talked to me. Yeah, the hot shit, obviously, but also I knew what you were going to do, how you were going to touch me. It made me feel really...safe.”

“That’s literally the best praise you could give me,” Keith says, pressing a kiss against Shiro’s hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Kinda, like, blissed out.” Shrio lets out a luxurious sigh. “I mean, I’m a little tired but in a really good way?” He nudges Keith’s side. “How about you?”

“Same.” Keith takes a breath and holds it for a moment. That isn’t exactly the question he’s asking. “But, um, are you, you know, feeling better about things? You kinda went through a lot tonight. And, don’t get me wrong, I’m _glad_ we talked about your past and opened up that space but also I get that one convo isn’t gonna necessarily, like, change everything you’ve been through.”

Shiro lifts his head, peering down at Keith, his gaze soft. “You are the best person I’ve ever met, you know that?” He smooths his fingertips over Keith’s collarbone. “I know that it’s probably going to take awhile for me to get over, like, all the…” He stops, shaking his head as a half-smile curves his mouth. “I guess my therapist would call it internalized shame or whatever. But like, you make me feel brave enough to try.”

“I’m here for whatever you need.” Keith brushes Shiro’s damp forelock away from his face, letting his palm linger against Shiro’s cheek. “Wanting all this is kinda new for me, too, like the desperate, all-consuming way I want you, I mean. I haven’t really ever _craved_ someone before? And now, well.” Keith gives a light laugh. “We’re both figuring out some things, and that’s okay, you know?”

“We’ve got time.” Shiro leans down, kissing him gently before resettling himself over Keith’s chest. “What you said, uh,” Shiro says, clearing his throat, “got me thinking. About, um, my nicer steth. It’s, you know, not for school, it’s just mine. I kinda splurged on it, figured no one would ever know. But, I use it sometimes.” He hesitates. “And maybe, like, you might try it on me. You know. In the future.”

“Look at you, baby. Asking for what you want. I’m so proud of you.” Keith can’t help but squeeze Shiro closer. “And yes. Very yes.” He huffs a laugh. “Maybe I can listen to you while you’re buried in me next time.”

_”Keith.”_

“What?”

Shiro breaks into an adorable snort, nuzzling against Keith’s chest. “We’re in love.”

“And we just had pretty mindblowing sex.”

Shiro pats Keith’s stomach. “Not bad for one night. Team us.”

“Team us.” Keith squeezes his arms more tightly around Shiro. He never wants to get up, never wants to have to think about anything else except feeling Shiro breathe. “I know we’re kinda sticky but I don’t want to move.” 

“I’m not sure I _can_ move.”

Keith opens his mouth to respond when his stomach gives a sitcom-level growl, both loud and embarrassingly long. 

“Aww, baby. You’re starving.”

“Nah. I’m fine.” 

“My hand is on your belly and I felt that! When’s the last time you ate?” Shiro’s concern is as overblown as it is charming.

“Um, like, I had a protein bar between exams.” Honestly, food had been the last thing on his mind. “I wasn’t super hungry.”

“Poor thing. You need food.” 

Shiro starts to lift his head and Keith grips tighter. “No, don’t go.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Hey, Siri, call Galaxy Pizza.”

Her mechanized voice floats through the room. “Calling Galaxy Pizza.” Shiro orders them an impressive amount of pizza--and a salad for the illusion of eating a vegetable, just because Shiro can’t help himself--and then he settles back against Keith, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “And now we have 30 minutes for cuddling.”

“Or, maybe fifteen minutes and then a quick shower and pajamas?”

“God, I love you.” 

Keith grins as Shiro kisses over his heart. “Love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I'm on tw [@] starlitruns ✨


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